


The Bet

by amelia_day



Series: The Panem Nightlocks [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bullying, F/M, Football, Fraternities & Sororities, Hazing, Slow Burn, Triggers, chubby!peeta, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-01-27 06:23:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 133,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21387565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelia_day/pseuds/amelia_day
Summary: When a sorority bet gets out of hand and becomes a campus wide sensation, Katniss and Peeta are both forced to deal with the aftermath.
Relationships: Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair, Delly Cartwright/Thresh, Gale Hawthorne/Madge Undersee, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Series: The Panem Nightlocks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632781
Comments: 1817
Kudos: 1217





	1. September 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All 'Hunger Games' characters and references belong to Suzanne Collins.

* * *

_I'm ridin' high_

_ never sleepin'_

_ livin' for the weekend._

-Fitz and the Tantrums

* * *

My dwindling bank account judged me for getting breakfast at one of the most expensive cafés on campus _ four times _ last week instead of just making it myself. I stared at the online statement, silently dividing the remainder of my money up until next Friday’s paycheck to avoid going into the negative. 

It was perfectly doable to live on $2.50 a day, right? 

I shut my laptop with a huff and rolled off the bed. I’d run out of time and leave no wiggle room in my schedule if I didn’t start getting ready now. 

Through the bedroom door and down the hallway, music was blaring from in the bathroom. It was a Friday night, which meant going out was a given. But, while the majority of the girls at Theta Kappa Phi were preparing for a night out of partying, a few of us had different plans for the evening.

I slipped past the cracked door of the bathroom and took the bottle of vodka that sat on the counter among the mess of makeup, hair products and cell phones. If I only had _ two dollars and fifty cents _to spend tonight...I needed to pre-game. Locating a shot glass, I filled it up and tipped it back in one swallow. Technically, it was against the house rules to have alcohol on property, but our house Mom wasn’t around and none of the girls seemed to mind having a little extra fun among ourselves. It was almost like if we all acted natural about it, then there was no harm done. 

“Katniss, you disgust me,” Delly said, voice so serious I turned to cast her a confused stare. She wrapped a blonde piece of hair into her curling wand expertly while looking me over. “I would have to stop eating for like, three days to wear something like that.” 

I glanced down at my outfit; high waisted jean shorts and a sweater. The comment, I assumed, had been made because the sweater was cropped and showed off my midriff when I moved the right way, but I’d hardly call it scandalous.

“You look great,” I assured her, because Delly was fragile and needed reassuring sometimes. I was used to it. Growing up with a younger sister who constantly needed validation, despite being the picture of perfection, had prepared me for living in the Theta sorority house. 

It helped that it wasn’t a lie. Delly was a cute girl; with thick, curvy hips and bright blue eyes. Whenever we went out she managed to coerce some poor sap into buying her a drink. I wasn’t sure why she insisted on playing the _ comparison _ game.

“I hope you’re planning to do something with your hair,” Glimmer said, giving my hip a bump to let me know the comment was for my benefit. 

It was pulled back into a simple braid, but I should’ve known better. Hair worn up was for classes and the gym. Going out meant hair down. I tugged the hair tie out from the bottom of my braid and ran my fingers through to get the knots out, then pulled back half of it to create a braid around the back of my head.

“Clove got a text from Marvel that Lambda is having a party tonight,” Delly told me, pouting her lips together after applying lipstick. “We’re probably going to head over there straight from trivia. You in?”

That meant waking up tomorrow morning with a hangover would be inevitable and any ideas of studying would be tossed out the window until Sunday. If I had learned anything in my four semesters of college, it was that Panem University went _ hard _ on the weekends. The second classes were through on Friday, campus turned into one huge party that typically lasted until Sunday morning. Then it was back to business as usual. 

The hectic balance between work and play used to get me so stressed I’d give myself stomachaches. Studying and school work had never come second nature to me as they did my younger sister, Prim. I had to fight for every good grade I received, often staying up well into the morning cramming last minute notes in before turning around and heading to class. Adding in the weekly commitments that came with being a Theta and parties and social events into an already full calendar made it all feel like a useless feat. 

I’d spent many a Sunday holed away at the library. 

Now, the crazy schedule came as second nature. I still wanted to pull my hair out at times, but after four tragically ordinary years of high school spent hiding in the shadows, I’d promised Prim I would have some fun in college and come home with actual stories to share with her. 

And if I was being perfectly honest, I didn’t want my college experience to be a passive one either.

“Yeah, sure,” I said, the answer appeasing Delly. Her blue eyes shifted a little before she got a funny smile on her face.

“What?” I asked.

“Okay, I wasn’t stalking I swear, but I think Thresh might be at trivia night.”

“Why do you say that?”

“...Because he posted on Instagram that he’d be at trivia night,” she admitted with not nearly enough embarrassment. 

Well, no wonder it had been so easy to convince her to join my team tonight. 

I knew it couldn’t have been about the money. The pool was big--biggest one we’d played yet at seven hundred dollars--but that divided by five was mere chump change to the other girls in Theta. Money was not a good enough swaying factor to convince them to play trivia once a month on a _ Friday _...but it did a hell of a good thing for me the two times we’d won.

Tonight was Delly’s first time joining us. Now that she was single and a senior, I figured she was getting sentimental for the things she’d never gotten to experience while at Panem. Honestly, it made much more sense she was going for Thresh than nostalgia.

“Oh, Delly,” I sighed, giving her a look of concern.

“What?” She was getting defensive. “A bar is a public place and a lot of people show up to these trivia thingies, don’t they?” 

I nodded.

“So, that’s perfect,” she reassured me with a squeeze of my forearm. “I don’t even want him back.” _ She totally wanted him back. _“I just want to make him a little horny. Or jealous. Or both.” 

“Both works,” Glimmer chimed in from behind me. Delly giggled.

“I might need one of you to make out with me or something,” she said, entirely too serious. 

“Give me a cranberry vodka and I just might,” Clove told her with a wink. “You don’t need a backup plan, though. There will be plenty of hot dudes for you to choose from.” 

Delly smiled with restored confidence as she poured herself another shot. Her head tipped back and she only dribbled a little of it down the corner of her lips before swallowing.

“Woo!” She slapped the glass down on the counter. “I’m ready to trivia this bitch up. Let’s go!” 

* * *

District Twelve was one of campuses most popular areas on the weekends. Bars and restaurants lined the cobblestone streets with promises of reasonably priced food that tasted delicious both drunk and sober and plenty of places to view all the universities athletic games. 

On Saturday home games, it was common for the streets to be packed with tailgaters; a sea of navy and red all cheering the Nightlocks on to victory. 

Tonight our purpose in traveling to The District was for the Seam’s bar trivia night. Despite the chilly Wisconsin fall air, they kept the door propped open in a friendly gesture for patrons to wander in.

Delly grabbed my arm before I could enter, twisting me to face her.

“Don’t forget, you’re my wing woman tonight,” she said, smoothing the material of her skirt nervously. 

Thresh and Delly had been dating on and off again for a year now. Currently, they were in the “off again” phase of their relationship. Hence, the near stalker levels we were now resorting to. Some of the girls had bets going that they’d be back together before midnight, and though it was a fairly safe assessment...I wasn’t in a place to lose anymore money.

“Yeah, what exactly does that mean?” I asked.

“You do whatever it takes to get Thresh to notice me,” she reminded, wearing a look that had me thinking she thought I was a complete idiot for even asking. “Okay?”

“I’ll try.”

“There is no try,” she said, serious as shit as she placed a cold hand to my cheeks. “Only do.”

“Okay, Yoda,” I laughed. When my tongue darted out to lick her she quickly took her hands off of me.

“Who?” Her head cocked to the side like a confused puppy.

“Yoda. From _ Star Wars? _That’s what you just quoted.”

“You’re so silly sometimes,” she said, face contorting as she shook her head. “I’ve never seen _ Star Wars, _you nerd. That was just graffitied in the bathroom last week.”

I rolled my eyes, trailing behind her as she sashayed into the bar.

Despite the crowded atmosphere, it wasn’t hard to spot our targets. Thresh’s group stuck out the same way ours did when we went out all together. Large and loud; a presence that demanded to be noticed. A trait that was either annoying or enticing depending on your nights motive. Tonight, the crowd of student athletes took up a quarter of the bar space where they’d settled in towards the back corner. 

Thresh was positioned in the thick of it, cuddled up in a booth with one arm draped lazily over another girls shoulder. Beer resting in his free hand.

_ Crap. _ Looks like Delly wasn’t the only one with the good idea to stalk the guys. But, she should have known better. His follower count alone was enough to give him _ the blue check-mark _on his profile. Hanging out with the football players on campus was practically equivalent to being seen with a celebrity. And I had a feeling that was why trivia night had more than doubled since last month…

I sighed, swooping all my hair to rest over my shoulder as I glanced around. Entertaining frat guys and football players as means of a distraction for Delly to swoop in wasn’t a _ huge _ problem--especially if I called Glimmer and Clove in as back up--but it would prove far more difficult managing to get a girl out of his clutches. 

Delly wandered up to the bar immediately after entering The Seam; feigning obliviousness to the ridiculous crowd she’d come there for as she perused the drink menu. Despite the fact that there were only five of us, Theta girls were difficult to tame, and our presence was noted almost immediately. I saw Thresh’s eyes scan the crowded bar, but it would be difficult for him to spot short Delly among the massive amounts of people. If he did manage to find her, he was good at faking the same level of indifference she wore. 

“When does this thing start?” Glimmer saddled up beside me to ask.

I glanced down at my watch. 9:35. Trivia began at ten.

“You’ve got twenty-five minutes,” I said and she quickly flitted away.

“Here.” Delly appeared out of thin air, handing me a glass of amber liquid before taking a swig of her own. “For all your hard work.”

“I haven’t done anything…”

“Change of plans, though,” she continued on, oblivious. “I’m going in hot. Subtlety is for the weak.” 

“Dell, wait. What exactly are you planning to--”

She slipped through the crowd smoothly, weaving between the bodies at an impressive speed for someone who’d already had four shots. I went to follow behind her, irritated that I was wasting time playing _ wing man _ and making sure she didn’t do anything to embarrass herself instead of getting signed in for trivia. I spun around, heading for the booth and immediately run into a massive body as he backed up and I stepped forward at the same time. 

The full drink in my hand sloshed out of the glass, covering the front of the strangers shirt and soaking it through. My lips formed a soft ‘o’ and I gasped, pulling back to meet his eyes.

“Oh god, I’m sorry.”

He surprised me; face registering amusement after the initial shock, rather than irritation I’d expected. He was tall as anything, definitely over six feet. I had to crane my neck up to look him in the eye. His hair was a mop of ruddy blonde curls that matched his closely trimmed beard.

“It’s okay, just a shirt.” He picked up a few napkins from the bar and soaked up the substance from himself. I watched, feeling a little guilty to admit that had his stomach been flat and toned, I probably would’ve offered to help dry his shirt.

This dude looked like he’d said _ yes _to a few too many rounds of beer and cheese curds.

“Any get on you?” He asked, offering a clean napkin.

“No.”

“I’ve got about five more of these shirts,” he said with light laughter. It was a typical _ U _ of _ P _ shirt, with the school’s logo in basic gray. The kind they gave to Freshman during orientation and inexplicably handed out in the union all the time. 

“Time for a new wardrobe,” I said, the humor almost too dry to detect. He laughed, the sound bubbling up from behind closed lips into more of a soft snort.

I didn’t miss the way his eyes did a quick scan over me. Immediately, I knew what he was thinking. It was what most people thought when they saw me.

_ Cute. _

No..._ hot. _

The way he settled his gaze back on my face almost instantly spoke another truth; I was out of his league. By a long shot. 

“I’m Peeta, by the way.” He focused in on the half empty glass in my hand and motioned to it. “Do you need a new one?”

That, I hadn’t saw coming. He was offering to buy me a drink? After I spilled it on him? A kind gesture, if not a little bizarre, but I really needed to find Delly before she made a complete ass of herself.

“No, I’m good. Thanks. Probably didn’t need it, anyways.”

“You’re looking for Delly?” he asked, and my head whipped back around towards him.

“How do you know Delly?”

“She’s been dating my buddy for a while now.”

“Your buddy?” My eyebrow rose. “You know Thresh Brookes?”

He nodded, stuffing his hands down into his jean pockets. 

“We hang out.”

“So do we, but I don’t remember seeing you.” I didn’t mean it rudely, just curiously. I thought back to all of the weekends I’d spent in Thresh’s company. The guys I knew well because of him, but I never remembered seeing this guy with him. 

“I don’t go out a lot.” 

“Maybe you should,” I said, lips turning up in a teasing smile. “See all the fun you’re missing? Getting drinks spilled on you, awkward conversation with strangers…”

He laughed, and the blush that tickled his thick cheeks was actually somewhat endearing. “Yeah, maybe.”

I did another scan across the bar for Delly. Despite being on the taller end growing up, I’d settled at a comfortable middle of the road height and was shorter than a lot of the patrons surrounding me. I couldn’t get a good eye on her. 

“She’s over in the corner with Brutus,” Peeta said, looking as confused saying it as I felt to hear it. “Looks like some of your friends, too.”

I nodded, relaxing a touch to know that she wasn’t alone while drinking. Peeta noticed the way I leaned against the bar and cleared his throat, grasping for conversation.

“Are you here for trivia night?”

“Yeah. We’ve come the past few months.”

“Neat. This is my first time. I didn’t know they did this sort of thing. It’s pretty cool.”

“Well, we’ll see if you still think it’s cool when you lose.” Dear lord, was it the shots from earlier that were making me act like a fool? Or just the fact that he was easily teasable? He broke out into a smile at my words, laughing lowly.

“Wow, okay. That good?”

“We’re pretty good_ ” _I confirmed. 

“I’ll be on guard.”

I watched as Finnick Odair strolled up and wrapped a casual arm around Peeta’s shoulder. We’d never met before, but it was impossible to live on campus and not know who he was. The Nightlocks Quarterback for the past two seasons. His face was plastered on posters all around Panem and he was heavily featured during each ESPN game day coverage. 

There was no denying Finnick’s merit from the beginning, but what made him a household name was that last year he beat the NCAA college record for most passing yards in one season. The whole Cinderella story was made more incredible due to the fact he’d battled cancer not once, but twice as a teen and was now thriving.

It felt a little weird being in his company. I wasn’t about to trip over myself asking for his autograph or a photo, but after seeing him on television for so long it felt like a mirage that he was standing in front of me.

Not helped by the fact he was stunningly gorgeous, too. 

He gave Peeta’s chest a firm pat before pulling away with a questioning look.

“What’d you get on yourself?” he asked. “You’re all sticky.”

“I didn’t--”

“Who’s this?” he asked, noticing me watching them. 

“Er…”

“Katniss,” I supplied. 

“Peeta, you can’t chat up a lady without asking what her name is. Excuse my friend; he’s socially awkward.”

“It’s fine. I should go, actually.”

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to make you leave,” Finnick said.

“No, it’s not that. I just came with a group and they’re probably wondering where I went,” I supplied lamely, talking more to Peeta than Finnick at that point. He shoved his hands back down into his pockets with a nod of agreement.

“See you around, then,” I said with a wave.

“Have a good night, Katniss.”

_ “Dude, I didn’t mean to make her leave,” _I could hear Finnick saying in way of apology and I smiled to myself, weaving through the crowd towards the girls. 

“Here she is,” Clove loudly announced my arrival, pulling me into her with elbows linked. 

“Yeah, I can tell you were all very concerned about me,” I replied sourly.

“We were keeping an eye on you,” Glimmer assured, twisting a finger around the straw of her drink. “Trust me, we had a great view of you chatting up _ Shrek.” _

“Yeah, we almost sent in backup to rescue you.” 

I bit my tongue, fighting back the urge to say anything. Were they being rude? Yes, but they were my friends and I had no allegiance to the guy I’d met ten minutes ago. If I defended him now, I’d have to suffer the night being called _ Fiona _ or being subject to their drunken teasing. 

It was easier to just play along.

“He was harmless,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “Better to keep your eyes on Delly.” 

She was all but humping Brutus, with an arm resting languidly on his chest and nose tilted in towards his neck as he whispered something into her ear.

“Alright ladies and gentleman who’s ready for some _ trivia?” _

The bar broke out into loud applause and tried to grab Delly with no avail.

“Harmless, huh?” Glimmer leaned in to say in my ear above the noise. “He’s still looking at you.”

I glanced over in his general direction as staff started to hand out dry erase boards and register the teams. When we caught each others eyes, he looked away and Glimmer and Clove broke out in uncontrolled laughter. 

“You’re too nice, that’s your problem,” Clove informed me. “All these strays think they stand a chance.”

“You can’t even tell he plays football,” Glimmer tisked, shaking her head in dismay.

“He’s on the football team?” I asked, taking another look. That made sense, seeing as a quarter of the team were here and they all seemed to know him. He was certainly bulky enough to knock someone over; with thick limbs and hands. But it was hard to picture him getting anywhere…quickly. His massive body just looked slow. Even when he was just standing there. 

_ He must ride the bench a lot. _

“I know, right?” Glimmer snorted. _ Crap, had I said that out loud? “ _Fucking pathetic.”

“He tops the short list of athletes I wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole,” Clove admitted with a full body shiver. Dramatic. 

_ “Clove.” _

“What? You would?”

“Well, no.” I bit my cheek, guiltily. “Of course not.”

“Then you’re no better than me. I’m just not afraid to voice it.”

“Wouldn’t it be hilarious though, if Katniss invited him to go with her to the party at Lambda Sigma next weekend?” Glimmer said with a wicked glint of mischief in her eyes. “I bet he’d jizz himself.”

“Don’t be gross.”

“But wouldn’t it be so funny? He’d be wondering all night long how he got so lucky.”

“I will buy your next drink if you do that right now,” Clove promised, crossing a finger over her heart.

“Um, no,” I said, giving her a look. “That is worth so much more than _ one _drink.”

“One drink for asking...one hundred bucks for following through.”

That brought me up short. My eyes narrowed as I looked her up and down, skeptically. 

“A hundred dollars? Just for bringing that guy to a party?” I asked, tipping my head in Peeta’s general direction. 

“You can’t just show up with him and then ditch ten minutes later. He has to be your _ date.” _

“And there’s going to be a ton of hotties at this party, so it will be a sacrifice.”

“What’s the point?” Immediately, I regretted asking. Both Glimmer and Clove looked at me like I had three heads, blinking slowly as their lips pursed into a hard line.

“Because practical jokes are fun,” Glimmer said, as if it were obvious. “It’ll be nice to have something to laugh about later that night instead of crying over the usual drama.”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” Clove insisted. “It’s the easiest cash you’ll make all year. That’s like, what? A week of tips at Greasy Saes?” 

Probably more than, actually.

“So are you in, or too chicken shit?”

I glanced back at Peeta, who had rolled up the sleeves of his long plaid shirt in the hot bar. He stood with one hand still in his pocket, the other clutching a beer as he talked easily with some of his buddies. 

He seemed nice.

...But, unlike nearly all of the sisters in Theta, my parents were not fronting the bill of my expensive college living. The cushion of an extra hundred dollars in my bank account meant that come finals week I could maybe afford to take a few days off and study. Plus, hadn’t Peeta just admitted to me that he hadn’t gotten out much? So really, this bet would be mutually beneficial, wouldn’t it? 

I get one hundred dollars and Peeta gets the best night of his college life.

Win-win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would greatly appreciate your feedback :)
> 
> I am awhiskeyriver on tumblr if you want to say hello!


	2. September 25-26

* * *

_You play stupid games, _

_you win stupid prizes._

-Taylor Swift

* * *

The rules were simple:

  1. I must ask Peeta Mellark to a party.
  2. He must accept.
  3. The evening can’t end before midnight.

Getting him to accept the invitation hadn’t been that hard. Humiliation had panic rising as he stared down at me silently and I wondered if he would be the first guy to turn me down while all of his friends watched. He’d scrubbed the back of his reddened neck and shifted on his feet before his mouth opened.

_ “Me?” _

I’d swallowed back the guilt that welled within me at his unsure eyes. He was unlike any jock I’d ever come across. Even the ugly ones; the too thin ones or too short or with faces full of acne still thought their shit didn’t stink because they were student athletes and therefore thought of as campus gods. There had to be at least a _ couple _ jersey chasers who hung on his arm and flirted mercilessly with him. And yet, he looked at me like I was a diamond pulled straight out a pile of manure. 

_ “Yes, you.” _

_ “He’ll pick you up at eight,” _Finnick called out, hands cupped around his mouth. He shot us both a thumbs up as Peeta peered over his shoulder to scowl at his friends. 

_ “You’ll need my number. Do you have your phone?” _

Giving him my phone number hadn’t been part of the plan. The frat house was easily located and we could’ve established a meeting place there. Or he could’ve found me through Instagram--it wasn’t that hard. But the words had slipped out of my mouth before I could take them back. 

Now it was Wednesday, and we’d been texting daily.

My phone vibrated against the table Glimmer and I shared outside the union coffee house and I picked it up quickly, hiding the smile that unconsciously formed behind my cup. 

_ Peeta (9:45am): _Hey. Sorry I didn’t reply sooner, just got out of practice. 

I cursed myself internally for the dumb wave of excitement that came over me at his text. First off, the situation was fake. In two days it would be over and I would delete Peeta’s number, collect my money and pretend the evening had never happened.

Secondly, I hadn’t ever been attracted to someone like him in my life. _ Fuck it _ if that made me shallow, but the dude was a literal house. It scared me on some level to think about what intimacy might be like with him. He’d flatten me like a pancake.

My stupid conflicting emotions couldn’t get on the same page. It had been a tug of war of mind over matter for the past five days, keeping me awake at night, keeping me on edge waiting for his messages to come through...feeling like absolute shit when they did.

**Me (9:47am): ** How was it? 

_ Peeta (9:50am): _Exhausting, but good. Coach had us in the weight room for an hour and then running drills for the next two. 

**Me (9:51am): **Three hours?

_ Peeta (9:52am): _We’ve got a game this weekend. We'll practice for another hour or two tonight, too. 

**Me (9:53am): **Wow…

_ Peeta (9:54am): _I know, lol. Probably can’t stay too late at the party Friday, I’m sorry about that.

_ It’s for the best… _

**Me (9:53am): **No problem. We’ll make the most of it.

**Me (9:54am): **Do you have class now?

God, kill me. Someone take my phone and smash it against a wall. I did _ not _ just double text this guy. 

“Who are you texting?” Glimmer asked, tapping the table between us to get my attention. If she only knew...

“No one. My mom.”

“Ugh, parents are so nosy,” she insisted with a roll of her eyes, stirring more sugar into her latte. “Tell her hi from me, though.”

I set the phone face down on the table, as far away from Glimmer’s grabbing hands as possible.

“I feel completely unprepared for tonight’s chapter meeting,” she groaned, rubbing her temples. “You were able to get off from work, right?” 

Yes, I’d gotten someone to cover my shift, but it had been a pain in the ass and now required me to work both Saturday and Sunday night to make up for it. These pointless chapter meetings were really something that could’ve been handled via email, sometimes. Tonight, the hot topic was about what our holiday charity project was going to be--like my personal opinion was worth any weight between nineteen other girls. The decision could’ve been made easily enough without me, but these were the kinds of things that looked bad to miss. Especially when none of the other girls in my chapter had regular jobs in addition to classes. 

There were a few who did odd work here and there. Take Octavia, who worked at the student center once a week between her classes. Admittedly, she held the job because she was trying to bone one of her co-workers. And then Lavinia who tutored in Spanish a couple times a month, but she only did it to receive extra credit for her major and it looked incredible on her transcripts. I was the only, lonely one who worked because she didn’t have a credit card to pay for her expenses.

My parents had tried on their limited income. They started a college fund for both my sister and I when we were kids, but money had always been tight and what was in those accounts could hardly cover class materials for the four years. The only reason I was able to get into a school as good as Panem, and not be forced into local Community College, was because my tuition and housing was covered by a scholarship. One I was dangerously close to being disqualified from next semester if I didn’t get my Chemistry grade up. 

For everything else; the endless parties Theta seemed to attend, event and social planning, bars and nights out, game tickets...anything fun, really, I had to work part time at Greasy Sae’s. 

“It’s taken care of,” I confirmed. Glimmer nodded, flipping through her phone.

“You should just quit, anyways. Life is hectic enough without having to worry about work to schedule around.” 

My phone buzzed.

_ Peeta (10:03am): _I have some time still before my first class. Running to grab breakfast and then study for a while. I’ve got a test this afternoon.

**Me (10:04am): **Good luck! 

_ Peeta (10:04am): _Thanks, lol. What about you? 

**Me (10:05am): **I had coffee with a friend of mine, but we’re wrapping up soon. I need to grab something for breakfast before class too, actually. 

I smiled at the invitation in his follow up text.

_ Peeta (10:06am): _Not sure where about campus you are, but we could meet and get something together. 

_ Peeta (10:06am): _No pressure if you’re in a rush though, lol.

**Me (10:07am): **I have some time.

_ Peeta (10:07am): _Okay, I can come to you if you drop me your location. I’m leaving the stadium now. 

I dropped the location as next door at the Justice Building, so I wouldn’t need to explain to Glimmer when he inevitably found us. Glancing up from my phone, I cleared my throat and placed a lid on my half-finished hot chocolate.

“I have to go. Forgot that I need to meet with my professor before class.” 

“Alrighty,” she said, oblivious to my haste as she reapplied a coat of lipstick. “See you later.”

“Okay...” I slung my purse over my shoulder and pushed in the chair behind me. So as not to seem too eager about leaving her, I stalled a moment, brushing a hand through my thick hair. “You’ll be at yoga tonight, right?”

“Duh,” she replied with boredom, scrolling through her phone again. In her mind, I’d already left...which bode well for me. I smiled to myself before nodding.

“Okay, see you then.”

“Hey,” she called out, making me turn to glance over my shoulder. She blew me a kiss. “Don’t work too hard, okay?”

"Yeah, sure," I promised absently before turning towards the main exit of the building. 

September was nearly through, and fall was in full bloom in Wisconsin. Nearly every tree was a vibrant shade of gold, orange or red but the gusts of wind did well to knock the dying leaves from their branches, collecting in piles along the sidewalks and gutters. 

There was a high probability that snow would fall before October’s end, and then it wouldn’t stop likely until late spring. I breathed in the crisp air, enjoying it. Soon it would hurt your lungs to breathe the air too deeply. 

Yesterday’s rain had yet to cease and came down in hard pellets, forcing me to remove the umbrella from my bag and place it overhead. I took a quick look at my watch. I had just one hour before my first class. This would have to be a quick meet up. But, at least if it was awkward it was an easy enough excuse to escape.

This whole thing was ridiculous, anyways.

Before I had the opportunity to message Peeta and tell him where I was, I saw him. He was easy to spot, towering over most of the other students. Getting a better look at him now, I’d guess he was closer to six foot four. 

It was insane.

He didn’t notice me yet, and it allowed me to observe him without scrutiny. He had on a navy _ Panem Nightlocks _sweatshirt and track pants, his backpack slung casually over one shoulder. It was a comfortable look, especially today, where the winds were blowing coolly outside. I wouldn’t have minded being bundled up in some sweatpants, myself. 

In the thirty seconds or so that I spent watching him, I witnessed four different people walk by and acknowledge him by name. One raised his hand up for a high five, congratulating him on the win last weekend. Another group waved in his direction as they passed into the cafeteria. He smiled at each admirer, waving or high fiving them back with sincerity before his gaze found mine.

His smile increased, and he stuffed his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt as he made his way towards me. 

“Hey,” he greeted. 

“Hey yourself.”

Silence hung in the air, and I realized how stupid I had been to come. What did we have to talk about? I didn’t even know the guy existed before last week.

“Ah, you’re smart,” he noted, motioning to my cup when I quirked an eyebrow. “Already loaded up on your fuel.”

“I’m useless without it,” I shrugged with a laugh. 

“Me too, but weirdly I don’t usually drink it until midday.”

“That_ is_ weird.”

“I know,” he snorted. “Think it’s because my body is used to getting up early, but tends to crash around one or two...which unfortunately lines up with some of my lectures, so coffee is a necessity.”

“I can relate. Full disclosure, though; this is hot chocolate. I love how coffee smells, but I hate the taste.”

“My mother is the same way. She says it’s too bitter.” 

“She’s right. Have you ever been to _ Second Rebellion _in the District?” I asked, shimmying out of my trench coat now that the warmth of the building had settled over me. Wordlessly, he reached out to hold my cup as he saw me struggling. 

“I love that place,” he grinned. “It’s turned me into a bit of a coffee snob, though...which is something I never thought I’d say.”

I laughed, accepting my belongings back as I slung my jacket over my arm. When we fell back into silence, he motioned to the cafeteria with a jerk of his head.

“Hungry? I know you don’t have much time before class.”

I nodded, following him into the café. 

We grabbed trays and went down the line of prepared food; me grabbing a greek yogurt and fruit cup while Peeta loaded up on eggs, bacon, hash browns, a bagel and whatever other carbs seemed to pass us by. 

“I hope you didn’t have to walk far in the rain,” he said. 

“I was just across the street. It was a further commute for you from the stadium.” 

“Yeah, but I took the lazy route and drove over,” he confessed, expression sheepish despite his teasing demeanor; like he wasn’t sure how it would be interpreted. 

“I wouldn’t call driving across campus after a three hour workout lazy. My legs feel like jello after a mile long run, so I can only imagine yours.”

Heat rose within me at the mention of _ imagining his legs, _even if I didn’t mean it that way, and I was glad for my olive complexion that helped to hide the flush. I could feel it all the way down my neck, past the collar of my blouse and beneath. Peeta blushed too, the tips of his ears instantly turning a fiery shade of red as he grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl.

“Do you have a car?” he asked after clearing his throat.

“No, bike.” I was too proud to admit the reasoning for that was because it was far easier to keep and maintain a bicycle than it was a car. Insurance, gas, general wear and tear really added up and with my budget already skin tight, I had no wiggle room for added expenses.

It was a real pain sometimes..._ most of the time. _Leaving thirty minutes earlier than normal to get anywhere on time, being forced to exert myself at the end of the day when all I wanted to do was curl up on my bed and sleep. Deciding to take it to work or class because the sun was out only for it to be pouring rain hours later.

Peeta’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“What do you do when the weather’s bad?”

A valid question--it was bad most of the school year.

“The bus,” I answered indifferently. When his concern didn’t vanish, I added. “But mostly my friends pick me up.”

We approached the register and Peeta reached into the back pocket of his track pants to pull out his wallet.

“I’ve got it.”

“You don’t have to…” The card was already in the reader.

“I invited you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Want to sit over here?” 

We navigated the seating area, filled with students engaged in lively conversations, or tucked deeply into their laptops; headphones shoved in their ears. When we passed a table of four girls and one glanced up with a look of recognition and waved, immediately I raised my hand to give her a wave back. She wasn’t in my sorority, but must’ve recognized me from rush week. 

Confusion caused her smile to falter some and it was then that I noticed she was focused beyond me. I turned my head to see Peeta shyly regard her and thought it wasn’t possible to be more embarrassed.

“I thought I knew her from a party or something,” I told him in a quick attempt to save some dignity. 

“You might.”

“Doubt it. She seemed to know you, though. Everyone does, actually.”

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly as we found a free table. 

“They don’t actually _ know _ me. They just know I play football.”

“You’ve never met her before?”

Most guys would be over the moon to know a random pretty girl had recognized and fawned over him, but the whole conversation seemed to make Peeta more uncomfortable.

He shook his head, jabbing his eggs with a plastic fork.

“That must be...weird.”

“Sometimes, yes.”

“Only sometimes?” 

A smile turned up the corners of his lips.

“Most of the time.”

“Well, for the record, I had no idea you were a football player until one of my friends told me.” I sat up straighter with feigned superiority. “I don’t want you to think I spilled that drink on you as a ploy or anything.”

“I know,” he laughed.

_ ...He knows? _

He took another large bite of his food and I observed, pulling the lid off of my yogurt.

“Good?”

He looked up then, slowing his chewing before swallowing heavily and shifting his eyes self consciously.

“Ah, sorry. Practice always makes me hungry.”

I took a bite of yogurt, savoring the taste on my tongue before leaning against the table, closer to him. “What position do you play?”

“Center.”

I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. 

“I’ll admit I don’t know very much about football. What does that mean?”

“There’s defense and offense--”

“I know that much.” 

“Center is...well, right in the middle of the offensive line. My main job is to start the play and then block defense coming for the quarterback.”

“Oh, you’re the guy who hikes the ball,” I accused, pointing my spoon in his direction. “Right?”

“That’s right.”

“Do you actually say: ‘hut, hut, hike’?”

“Well, the quarterback does,” he corrected. “I spike the ball when he says to.”

That didn’t seem too difficult, but made sense, given his size. I knew he couldn’t possibly play one of the important positions, like the guys who caught the ball or ran several yards towards a touchdown. 

Passing a ball between his legs and knocking down another big dude seemed more in Peeta’s wheelhouse. But, there wasn’t really any nice way of voicing that to him outloud. 

“Well, that’s cool.”

He nodded, taking a long swig from his water bottle.

“Do you play any sports?”

“I used to shoot archery, but not anymore. Once I started college I just got too busy for it. Between classes and Theta Kappa Phi, I don’t have a whole lot of free time to commit to it.”

“You’re in the same sorority as Delly, right?” he asked, tone neutral in a way it often wasn’t when the subject of Theta came up. People either hated or loved the Theta house; mostly the later, but everyone had an opinion.

_ Theta was the hottest sorority on campus. _

_ The party animals. _

_ The bitches. _

_ The friendly girls. _

_ We were all stupid. _

_ We were all smart. _

_ Giving. _

_ Inclusive. _

_ Cliquey. _

If Peeta was thinking any of those things, he did well to keep his opinion free from his face. His thick blonde hair fell into his eyes when he bent down to eat, and each time he looked up he’d push the stubborn waves back off his face. His bright eyes regarded me, waiting, like he truly wanted to know more. 

“Yes, that’s how we met,” I confirmed.

“What made you decide to join a sorority, instead of pursuing your archery?”

Honestly, I had done it on a whim. The very beginning of freshman year, I was entirely out of my element. I hadn’t realized just how alone I’d really felt, being so far away from everyone I’d known in Pennsylvania. It was difficult to find the motivation to go out and socialize on weekends like seemingly the rest of campus.

I had the world’s worst roommate in the most inconvenient dorm building. 

Panem was known for being a party school; but I sat in my room every Saturday night listening to the ruckus outside the window and FaceTiming Prim.

I stumbled upon _ rush week _ by accident, cycling past Capitol Hill on my way to the library when the commotion caused me to slow down. It was pure chance that I’d been in the mood to decide and stop to see what was happening that day. That was when I met Delly, a sophomore at the time, and decided to rush for Theta Kappa Phi. 

I wasn’t about to dive into that whole pathetic story with a virtual stranger, though. He looked at me like I was something he couldn’t acquire. Like he was fascinated by my very presence. I didn’t want to see that sparkle leave his eyes if he knew the truth.

“The girls. I met them and just sort of clicked.” That was a partial truth. “I missed my sister back home. Being with them helped that, some.” 

He hummed thoughtfully.

“It’s sort of the same with being on a team. Eventually, it starts to feel like family, doesn’t it?” he asked, agreeing. “When did you join?” 

“Freshman year. I was one of two freshman rushes,” I said, wincing at the haughty tone my voice had taken. 

“My turn to be honest and admit I’m not entirely sure what that means, but if it’s anything like being recruited, that is really good.”

“It’s exactly like that,” I praised. “Thanks.”

He smiled, finishing up his breakfast. I bit into my last strawberry before reluctantly glancing down at my clock. The time teased me, and I knew in order to not be late to class I had to leave soon.

“You probably have to get going to class,” he guessed and I nodded, collecting up my trash. 

“It’ll take me twenty minutes to get there.”

“I can give you a lift.”

A tempting offer. It’d mean our impromptu time together this morning could be extended. But, it was too intimate. In fact, this entire morning had been. Meeting for breakfast like we’d been dating for months, engaging in relaxed conversation while our knees accidentally brushed beneath the table.

It was past the point of being dangerous--it was just stupid. It couldn’t go anywhere. The most we could hope for after this weekend was to be casual acquaintances who’d wave to each other from across the room when our paths inevitably crossed.

It couldn’t be more.

I needed to pull back.

“That’s nice of you to offer,” I said, tossing my tray into the trash. He watched as I pulled my jacket back on. “But, I meet up with a friend and we walk together. I don’t want to leave her hanging.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed, and for a moment we both lingered at the mouth of the entrance. I had no idea what we were waiting for but it felt oddly like being on the front porch after a first date.

“So Friday,” he finally spoke, and I don’t know why it made me laugh. He smiled when I did, the action positively radiant. I pushed a piece of hair that had escaped my braid back behind my ear, parroting him.

_ “Friday.” _

“Would you...I mean, I don’t know what you have going on before hand but…” he stuttered, back to his normal, nervous self. 

“But…?”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to get dinner or anything.”

_ Bad idea. _

Very bad idea.

My traitorous stomach filled with butterflies at the prospect. The war of emotions was physically draining and I could dropkick Glimmer for dangling money in front of my face like a homeless person. And myself for being pathetic enough to take the bait. This wasn’t worth it. I should’ve just picked up a few extra shifts at Sae’s over the semester. 

“I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. Hope the rest of your day goes well.”

_ Like we weren’t going to talk before the day was over… _

We shouldn’t. But we would.

“Yours too. Have fun studying,” I said, immediately turning on my heels after. Why was I being so awkward? I hadn’t stumbled over myself so much since I was in high school.

Thinking back on all the guys I had flirted with--hooked up with, even--since coming to Panem...they were all objectively more attractive than Peeta. Leaner, built with more obvious bulging muscle mass and conventional features. But I was lying to myself if I said that I wasn’t feeling some sort of magnetic pull to this guy.

And that scared the hell out of me.

* * *

“You _ have _ to go to dinner.”

I took a sip of my water, still panting from the exhausting cardio workout, and screwed the cap shut.

“No.”

“Why?” Glimmer whined, like I was personally attacking her by turning down Peeta’s invitation to dinner tomorrow night. I pretended to ignore her--it was the third time she’d asked me _ why Katniss?-- _and busied myself by wiping sweat from my forehead. 

I shouldn’t have even told them about it. But Glimmer and Clove were thirsty bitches when it came to gossip, and Peeta had been their choice topic for the week. They hounded me mercilessly once they found out we’d exchanged numbers, and now practically every time my phone buzzed they’d nosily try to see who the text was from. 

Then, naturally, try to tell me what to do. 

I couldn’t wait for this to be over. My nerves were shot just thinking about it. The only thing that helped was knowing it was only me, Clove and Glimmer who knew about the stupid bet. They were about as likely to tell anyone about it as I was. It didn’t paint any of us in a particularly pleasant light.

“There’s no way I’m accepting a dinner invitation from him,” I insisted when Glimmer and Clove refused to stop staring at me.

“It _ would _be embarrassing being seen with him more than once,” she admitted reluctantly, adding; “People would think you were a couple.”

“Who cares? They’ll realize in a week when you want nothing to do with him that you’re not,” Clove argued. “It’s a free meal. Go and make him take you someplace nice.” 

_ “Clove.” _

“What is the big deal?” she asked, shrugging into a tank top over her sports bra. 

The big deal was he’d already paid for my breakfast yesterday. It didn’t matter that my part of the bill had only totaled five dollars, it was the principle of the thing. It was the fact that what I’d been doing all week was already bad enough. I was leading the guy on. Letting him pay for more things and drive me around when I knew that I had no interest in dating him was one of the cruelest things I’d ever done. And my friends easy, laid back attitude about it was beginning to irritate me.

“He’s a football player. Let him use some of that ball money and take you out if he’s dumb enough to think you’re interested.”

“You know what? Forget it, okay? Bet’s off.”

“What do you mean _ the bet is off?” _Glimmer asked, indignantly, following hot on my trail down the hallway from the workout room into the dining room. 

“I mean it’s _ off. _I’m not bringing him tomorrow night. I’ll say I’m sick or something and can’t go. But I’m not doing it, so quit bothering me.”

“How can you be so selfish?” she asked, pouting. I shot her a look of disbelief before plucking a grape from its vine and sticking it into my mouth. When she noticed a few watching eyes from around the dining room, she lowered her voice. “You know I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something else to entertain you.”

“Katniss--” her words cut off mid-sentence and her look of irritation melted into one of neutrality as our chapter President, Cashmere, approached. She stood at the end of the table, not a single hair on her blonde bob out of place and a large envelope held between her manicured hands. 

“Good evening, ladies. How are you?”

“Wonderful,” Glimmer beamed, taking a bunch of my grapes into her palm. “Just finished yoga. I always feel so relaxed and like one with the earth afterwards, you know?”

Cashmere nodded with a smile before pushing a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I hate to interrupt your zen, but we still need your donations for the Pumpkin Patch Bash and the Homecoming formal. You’re the last ones on my list I need to collect from.”

Anxiety shot through me. As of today I had $6.50 cents left. The paycheck scheduled to come through tomorrow was already more than halfway spent and it wasn’t even in my account yet. 

I wasn’t so naive as to think the leftover would cover my donation. Plus, as it were, I’d be living off of granola bars and tap water for the week to make the money stretch. 

Glimmer and Clove were already reaching for their wallets. I watched with mild panic as they pulled several twenties loose and handed them over to Cashmere with ease. Sensing my discomfort, and lack of giving her anything, Cashmere turned to me with concern evident in her expression.

“Everything okay, Katniss?”

“Yeah. I’m just so dumb. I lost my bank card--”

“Oh no!”

“I know. I had it canceled and everything, but the bank said it would be about a week until my new card would be issued. Do you think I could give you the money then? I know it’s not convenient and I’m so sor--”

“We’ve got you, girl.” Glimmer and Clove pulled more money free from their wallet, handing the cash directly to Cashmere who ran her fingers through it, counting.

“That should cover it, yeah?”

“That’ll do it. Thanks ladies!”

I waited until Cashmere had flitted away from the dining room to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, I can pay you back next pay day, promise.”

“No, you can pay us back tomorrow night when you bring Godzilla to the party.” Her smile increased and I felt anger swell in my chest. 

“Get real, Katniss. I don’t need or want your money. This is how you’ll pay me back. And isn’t that far more fun than having to give up the money you worked so hard for?” 

Glimmer gave the top of my head a kiss as she rose to her feet.

“Alright, I have to hit the shower or my back will break out. See you girls in a bit.” She sauntered out of the room, pulling the double doors open before twisting around to look back at me. “Oh, by the way, I put an extra fifty in for you...so, I guess you’ll be accepting that dinner invitation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the incredible response to the first chapter! It was a very encouraging welcome back to the fandom :) Hope you are all buckled in for a long ride. See you next Sunday!


	3. September 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** Chapter Trigger Warning: ** Bullying

* * *

_Surrounded but still alone,_

_ let’s leave the party…_

-Ed Sheeran

* * *

Everyone told me that junior year would be the hardest. 

The most challenging.

Most demanding. 

That I would live for the weekends and count down the days to Christmas break. 

For the past two years, I've been preparing myself for that. I just figured the year would be difficult _ academically. _My struggle had little to do with what went on in the classroom.

Peeta and I walked down the District just as the sun had finished setting in the sky, casting the last low shadow of light over the horizon. Street lights flickered on around us as we kept a slow, lazy pace down the sidewalk. In the distance, the sounds of the party fully underway could be detected and I dreaded how in just a few moments more our easy conversation would be drowned out by its noise.

“Are you okay?” he asked and I realized it had been a minute since either of us had spoken. He regarded me cautiously, peering over his mop of thick hair to stare down at me.

“Yeah, sorry,” I replied, shaking my head as if it would help to clear my thoughts.

“Long day?”

_ He had no idea. _

“Long week.” 

“Ah. Yeah, the beginning of the semester can be overwhelming. Sorry about that.” 

“It’s okay, I just got lost in thought.” 

I hadn’t been myself the entire night. Just another way in which I hadn’t been fair to Peeta. Though conversation tended to flow with him naturally, I’d given him little to work with throughout dinner. I’d spent most of the time thinking about how much I didn’t want to be there, not helped by the persistent stream of text messages I kept receiving from Glimmer and Clove. The other part preparing myself to have to use my credit card to pay for the meal.

When the check came, Peeta had taken it without a second thought, ignoring my protests as he slid his card into the folder and handed it back to the waitress with an easy smile.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, conversationally. That question might’ve annoyed me had it been someone else, but with him, it didn’t bother me. It actually made me feel good. _ Too good. _ He was genuine when he asked. He cared to know what was weighing me down.

“How much money do you make playing football?” The question blurted itself out before I could stop it, and I was glad for the veil of darkness the sky provided to hide my embarrassment. Stunned, Peeta didn’t reply for a moment and I reached out, placing a hand on his arm. _ Bad idea. _ It flexed beneath my grasp on reflex and I felt for myself just how strong it was.

I pulled back in an instant, letting it fall limply beside me.

“Wait, you don’t have to answer that.”

He laughed, the ease of his laid back personality never escaping him.

“It’s okay. But, we actually aren’t paid.”

I blinked. 

“You don’t get paid? At all?”

“At all,” he agreed with a shake of his head.

“Not even the quarterback?” I asked, skeptically. 

I wouldn’t admit it outloud, but after spending so much time talking with Peeta this week, I’d looked up a few things about college football so that I wouldn’t look stupid if the subject came up. The rules, game schedules…

I had found a few articles about student athletes, too. Between that, and seeing first hand through Peeta, I was beginning to realize they did _ a lot. _

Twenty hours of required practice a week minimum and that didn’t even include games. Capital stadium held _ one hundred thousand _seats and every last one of them sold out regularly during home games of fans from across the state who came to watch them play. There were press conferences, ESPN interviews and coverage. All of that on top of the regular academic workload and class schedule that the rest of us had.

I was sure there was some under the table leniency for them in class. People regularly tripped over themselves for athletes--especially the football team--and faculty wasn’t immune to that, either. But, damn. No wonder Peeta didn’t find himself at parties often. I thought _ my _ life was insane.

“Not even him,” Peeta replied in answer to my question. “It’s a privilege, not a career. Or so they keep telling us.”

“But I mean, you get other things besides money, right?”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t tell me you don’t get free stuff all the time,” I scoffed. “Like, I don’t know..._ Nike _shoes or nice headphones or an iPad or something.”

“You think I get free iPads?” he asked, amused.

“I don’t know!” 

“I don’t,” he laughed. “Even if a company or fan offered us anything, we’d have to turn it down. It goes against NCAA policy to accept gifts or money like that.” 

“That kind of sucks.” They should at least let them milk the whole _ rockstar athlete _ thing while they can. Most of these guys won’t go on to play ball professionally after graduation. 

“Yeah, sometimes. But, I can’t really complain. Our stadium and facilities are state of the art and we have some of the best coaches and therapists in our conference division.”

“Therapists?” 

“Physical therapists,” he corrected. “And massage.”

“You have your own massage therapists?” 

He nodded. “Especially when it gets cold. Muscles tense up and seize, which can be a pain in the ass. So we have weekly appointments to keep that from happening and prevent injury.”

“Sounds like a dream,” I joked.

“For some, maybe. I kind of dread it, to be honest with you.”

“Are you ticklish?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously. His lips turned up in the corners.

“Yeah, a little.”

“Where?” _ Why? Why are you asking him where he’s ticklish, like you’re ever going to need this knowledge? _

Peeta blushed under the street lights, red painting his entire face all the way to his ears.

“I don’t know, a lot of places,” he laughed nervously.

“Yeah, I can see why that might be torturous.”

“That and stripping down to have someone’s hands touching your whole body. Gets a little uncomfortable.”

“Maybe you just need someone different to do it.”

I had to actively stop myself from imagining what it would feel like to be the one massaging him. _ If all his muscles felt as thick and hard when they tensed up as his arm had. _

I chanced a look at Peeta and had the inkling he was trying to actively stop the same thoughts from entering his mind.

Warmth flooded me.

“Maybe,” he murmured, quietly.

“So, you must work then on top of it all?” I asked, changing the conversation. It seemed to relax us both as we kept walking, our arms occasionally brushing with our close proximity.

“No. Coach is pretty strict about not working during the season. He doesn’t like too many distractions or interferences.”

“Wait.” I stopped walking. It took Peeta two beats to realize and then he turned back to me. “If you don’t have a job, why did you take me out to dinner?”

“Still gotta eat,” he teased.

“Yeah but I could’ve paid for myself!” 

He looked at me like I was insane and pushed his stubborn wisps of curls back from his face.

“It’s not a big deal, Katniss. Really. I work for my parents during summer and breaks. They compensate me pretty generously because they know I can’t really work the rest of the year.” 

That was cool of them, but it didn’t change the fact that I felt like a steaming pile of crap. I just needed this night to be over with. Every time I thought I could forget about the stupid bet and what a terrible person I was, it came back up and inevitably made me feel ten times worse each time.

“Well, next time it’s on me.” Jesus, I hadn’t even drank and it was like I had no control over my mouth. Absolutely no filter between my brain and lips as things I had no right to say kept flying past.

There wasn’t going to be a next time. Ever. So why the hell did I just say that? 

“We’ll see,” Peeta muttered, shyness in his tone.

As we approached the Lambda Sigma house, I wished we could bypass it all together and keep the easy conversation as we strolled campus. But alas, the entire reason for this night was coming to a head.

I glanced down at my watch.

Eight-thirty.

Three and a half hours and then it was over.

_ Just three and a half hours. _

* * *

_ Just one and a half hours. _

I poured myself a drink at the makeshift bar that took over the kitchen counter and chanted the words to myself internally. This was as bad as playing _ wing woman _ to Delly. I couldn’t relax. I couldn’t drink too much to help ease my tension, afraid it would cause me to relax _ too much. _And the worst part was, under any other circumstances, I’d actually be having a good night.

Peeta was fun and easy to be around. We joined in a game of beer pong on the front porch when we first arrived; a nice way to ease into the party atmosphere. Shared a skewer of what I think and hope was chicken that some half-drunk Lambda members was grilling in the lawn. Got caught in a sea of bubbles, as someone had filled an entire kitty pool with the liquid soap and passed out huge bubble wands to people as they danced around to the beat of the music blaring through the open windows of the house.

Peeta had been stopped several times for fist bumps or slaps on the back, quick hello’s and conversations about how this was the Nightlocks best start to a season in five years.

Everyone knew him. That knowledge hadn’t penetrated through to me until tonight. It wasn’t just when he was on the field, dressed in Nightlock colors, that people cheered for him. He was well known--_ well liked _\--by a lot of people on campus.

And I’d never even known he existed before last week.

How many times had I passed him by, not giving him a second thought? Labeling him as the messy, overweight, college kid who’s room probably smelled like body odor and had permanent cheeto stained fingers? 

He didn’t smell bad at all. On the contrary, he smelled _ really good. _So good that when his hand tentatively pressed against the exposed small of my back as we weaved through the tight crowded house, I didn’t want the contact to break.

As if reading my mind, strong hands purchased themselves on my waist and gripped my hips. I was whirled around, back pressed against the counter. My eyes widened, surprised, until I saw that it was James Marvel who stood inches away from me. 

“Enjoying yourself, Katniss?” he asked, tipping his head in the direction of the drink in my hand. 

I shifted in his arms.

“Trying to.”

“Good. We love our Theta girls, have to keep you happy. It’s not a party until you show up and show us how it’s done, right?” He flashed me an arrogant smile.

He had every right to be arrogant; tall with lean muscles that managed to still look good even beneath a douchey _ Panem _tank top, brown hair and green eyes. He was objectively hot.

We hooked up a time or two in the past; be it a little making out...or more. Judging by the way he was eyeing my body up and down he thought history might repeat itself tonight.

“You need one of these,” he said, looping a glow stick around my neck. “All the cool kids are wearing them.”

“Guess that means you aren’t cool anymore,” I teased, noting his lack of one.

“I’ll just have to steal it back from you later,” he promised, leaning in for a kiss. 

I turned my head, squirming out of his grasp and away from the back of the counter. He looked down at me with confusion, holding his arms up in defense.

“You good?”

“I’m fine, I’m just...here with someone. I only came in to get a drink. I should go find him.”

“Who?”

“Peeta Mellark.”

“You’re here with Mellark?” 

“Don’t look so surprised.”

“No, it’s cool. He’s a good dude. I just didn’t think that was really your type.” I didn’t know whether to be offended or flattered by his statement. 

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re a sexy motherfucker and Peeta…” he trailed off, lips forming a cocky smirk. “He’s a _ good dude.” _ He repeated for emphasis.

I grit my teeth.

“Yeah, he is. Excuse me.”

I unhooked the glow stick from my neck and handed it back to Marvel before slipping past him and back to the crowded hallway of the house. People were everywhere; on the stairs, in the doorway, spilling over into each room on the main level of the house and outside both the front and back end of it. Lights flickered in bright flashes of color through the living room, timed to the music and I shot a glare at some guy as I was jostled from his wild dancing. 

Despite the levels of chaos, it wasn’t hard to find Peeta again. He was a beacon, not just because of his height but the electric presence that he naturally emitted, pulling me towards him. I slipped a hand through his casually as I saddled up next to him mid-conversation. When I looked up, I was startled to see that it was Delly who stood across from him. They shared a twin look of surprise, and she blinked between our intertwined hands and my face.

My fingers twitched against Peeta’s warm skin and on reflex his hand tightened its hold a fraction around mine. 

“Hi, Delly.” I tried to keep it casual, despite my beating heart. She wasn’t supposed to have noticed us together. Delly was the kind of girl who made a mountain out of a molehill. She had the purest heart of anyone I’d ever met, and was a hopeless romantic. I swore I saw her looking up wedding dresses after her and Thresh’s second date.

This was not good. 

Obviously I assumed word might spread around the sorority house about mine and Peeta’s date, but I had planned to play it off that we just hadn’t clicked. Now I needed a new story before tomorrow…

“Katniss.” Her lips turned upwards into a slow, mischievous smile. “I guess I don’t need to introduce you guys.”

“We met when I spilled a drink on him,” I smirked and Peeta returned the smile, eyes moving from our connected hands back to my face a couple times, like he wasn’t sure what to do with our new contact. 

“And you guys are here _ together?” _she asked, moving her two pointer fingers to touch like two little people kissing. I nodded and then immediately winced as she let a sound so high in frequency only dogs should be able to hear it. 

“Okay, this is adorable. I just wish I had thought of this connection sooner; so much wasted time. I’m sorry guys.”

“It’s fine…”

“You know I’ve known Peeta since he was a freshman, right?” Delly boasted, her bright blue eyes wide with admiration as she cocked her head up at him. “He was coming for the first practice at the stadium and accidentally walked into the girls locker room after dance practice had ended.”

“Okay, Delly,” Peeta mumbled in hopes of shutting her up, cheeks flamed. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Poor guy, surely he knew by now there was no stopping Delly once she got to telling a story. 

“It was hilarious.”

“We seem to remember that day differently.”

She giggled, looping her arm around Thresh’s easily when he appeared with a drink for her. He greeted Peeta with a clap on the back and as they exchanged pleasantries, Delly wiggled her eyebrows at me.

“He’s the sweetest,” she mouthed, tilting her head in a very _ Delly-esque _fashion towards Peeta. I shifted my eyes up, curiously watching his easy smile as him and Thresh spoke, and felt my skin heat.

“We need to go on a double date,” she suggested enthusiastically when Thresh and Peeta rejoined our conversation. I shot her a look, one that insisted she shut up already and Peeta ran a hand over the back of his head.

“Dell, why don’t we leave these guys be for a bit?” Thresh suggested, giving her back a little pat of encouragement. “Come on, let’s go outside.”

“Yeah, fine. Have fun!” she called over her shoulder, waving goodbye to us as Thresh escorted her away.

Peeta laughed under his breath and gave his head a little shake before seeming to notice our still linked hands. I watched his adams apple bob with a forced swallow as his piercing gaze met mine again.

“Is this okay?” I asked, and he nodded. 

Looking around, I didn’t really feel like being around anyone. It was selfish, given the motive of the night, but I was tired of splitting my attention from Peeta. I wanted to be alone again, even if it was just a few minutes.

I squeezed his hand, tugging him in the direction of the winding staircase. 

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“I just wanted to find somewhere quieter. Is that okay?”

He might’ve been inexperienced; in fact, I was almost sure of it, but he wasn’t stupid. Realization of what I actually meant when I said _ find somewhere quieter _ dawned on him, and his anxious expression was laced with eagerness.

“That’s fine.”

I knew the Lambda Sigma house as well as my own and navigated the halls of the upper level easily. It was totally skeezy to go makeout in someone’s bedroom but this wasn’t Marvel or some frat boy that I could kiss around the side of the house without a second thought. It was _ Peeta, _ and I wanted to be away from the prying eyes and back to the quiet contentedness I experienced only with him.

I found an empty room and eased him through the door before closing it behind us. With a relieved breath, I walked over to the made up bed and fell onto it. 

“It’s a little overwhelming, isn’t it?” I asked when he came to sit next to me. 

“Yeah, it is.”

“Probably doesn’t phase you the same, though. You must be used to all the noise and chaos from the field.”

“That’s true. It’s hard to even hear yourself think sometimes. Mostly I try to block it all out.”

“How?”

“Usually like this,” he responded, amused. “Take a beat. Refocus.”

“What do you refocus on?” 

“I go over the plays mentally. Tell myself to think about what I know and tune everything else out.”

“That’s good advice,” I agreed in a mumble. Our hands had broken apart once we entered the bedroom, but my palm itched to find his again. 

“What do you know?” I asked, curious. Obviously not talking about football, anymore. I watched the light flicker on inside of Peeta and the way his calm eyes shifted to his hands, tangled up in his lap.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted with a breathless laugh. “I’m still wondering why a girl like you is out with me.”

“A girl like me?” I questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“I just wouldn’t have expected you to notice me.”

He was right, of course. If I’d never spilled my drink on him that night at the Seam, we likely would’ve never talked. I would have checked us in for trivia and kept an eye on Delly until it began; entirely focused on the goal of being there.

I wasn’t sure if it was good luck or bad that Delly brought me that drink, but sitting there in a dark room with Peeta while the party boomed on around us, it felt good.

“That’s a dumb thing to wonder,” I whispered back and Peeta smiled, not shifting away when I scooted closer to him.

"Yeah, maybe it is. I'm having a really nice time with you tonight, Katniss." 

My stomach somersaulted and instinctively, I leaned in even closer. 

“Me too.” He smiled at the admission, giving me the nerve to continue. “Is it weird that it feels like we’ve known each other for longer than a week?”

“I know,” he admitted lowly. “I feel that way, too.” 

“Hmm,” I breathed, watching as color travel its way up his neck, blossoming on his cheeks as he looked down at me. 

“Peeta?”

Our faces moved even closer and he swallowed when my hand went to rest on his knee.

“Yeah?”

My lips found his; slow and firm. Soft and lush, the kiss sent a jolt of electricity through my body at the slightest brush of contact. 

He pulled back after the short connection, looking at me through lidded eyes, searching for the reassurance that it was okay. I moved my hand from where it rested on his knee up around his neck and felt goosebumps pebble his skin as I pulled him back into me. 

He let out a sigh, the softest breath of air through his nose, and the hand leaning against the bed moved to my low back, exposed by my short top. Just the touch of his thick fingertips against my skin caused me to shiver.

I ran mine through his wavy curls and heard his inhale. By instinct, I deepened the kiss.

It felt too good. I needed to be closer.

I drew my leg up to rest against his middle; not quite bold enough to climb into his lap but lost enough in the feeling to press the boundaries. My hand moved over his chest and rubbed it gently without breaking the kiss. 

When we finally parted, I leaned into the base of his neck. 

“Is this okay?” I asked, still breathless, rubbing my thigh against him to emphasize the meaning. I could feel his erection against me; hard and steely beneath his denim.

His groan was soft, eyes hooded in the darkness as he nodded. I slipped fully onto his lap and moaned when his hands came to rest on my hips, helping to guide me over him. 

“It’s okay,” he answered on an exhale. His long eyelashes fluttered when I leaned forward and brushed our lips together again. 

“Good,” I said against him. “Because I don’t want to--”

The door flung open, interrupting me mid-sentence and Glimmer stood on the other side of it, lips pursed in a perfect ‘o’ of surprise as she drank in the scene.

“Oh, gross!” she exclaimed. 

_ Drunk. _

I scrambled off of Peeta’s lap, both of us pulling free from our clouded lust to fully evaluate what exactly was happening. 

“When your friend makes poor life decisions and you get the receipts,” she giggled into her phone, which was pointed in our direction. 

“Glimmer, stop,” I demanded, holding up a hand to block the bright light of her camera. “What are you doing?”

“I know we had a deal Katniss, but _ damn. _You’re committed,” she cackled.

Peeta stiffened beside me and I felt my heart rate increase.

"There you are, what's going on?" Clove asked before stopping in her tracks upon seeing Peeta and I. The two of them lost it.

I chanced a look at Peeta, guilt rising when I could make out the color on his cheeks despite the dim lights. Flush from arousal gone and replaced by a tint of embarrassment.

"Seriously, go away!" I yelled.

"You don't get extra money for kissing him!" she informed me, voice lilted with amusement as Clove pulled her from the room. "That wasn't part of the bet!"

The door slammed shut, but beyond it, despite the thick bass of music coming from below, I could still hear her on her phone--to whoever the fuck she was talking to. 

_ "We dared our sorority sister to bring Shrek to the party and she _ did it! _ " _

I turned to Peeta, feeling like I was about to vomit as I fought to find words that could possibly explain.

"Peeta--"

"I should go. I-I need to go," he insisted, standing up abruptly. I rolled off the bed to follow after him.

"You don't need to leave.” I could feel the panic rising within me.

“I have a game tomorrow,” he offered, lamely, and then pushed a hand through his hair--the hair I’d just been running my hands through moments earlier. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“Wait...”

“I...I’ll see you later, Katniss.”

The door shut behind him and I stood in stunned silence for a couple of minutes. Alone. 

The air was stale; too stilted in its silence, and the fact that below me the floorboards were vibrating with music as the party continued on had me sick to my stomach.

_ Was it worth it? _ My mind snarled. _ Really? _

I needed to go and find him. There was no way he could’ve left already. I could catch him.

I bolted for the door and jerked it open right at the same time another guys hand landed on the handle to twist it open. Him and the girl who was weaved around him both looked at me, stunned.

“What are you doing in here?” he accused.

“It’s all yours. Enjoy.” I slipped past them and headed for the stairs, taking them by two before being dumped into the center of the house where people were scattered in every direction.

I scanned the perimeters, searching for his height that felt so easy to spot an hour ago. No one matched the description.

I saw Thresh and Delly dancing; their bodies close together as they swayed to the music. She wore a dreamy look in her eyes despite their very public grinding, and I watched it disappear into confusion as I tapped her shoulder.

“Have you seen Peeta?”

“I...thought he was with you?” she answered slowly, tilting her head in confusion. I didn’t have time, or the desire, to explain everything to her and turned on my heels to continue the search.

Delly grabbed my arm, twisting me back to face her before I could leave.

“Everything okay?”

_ No. _

“Fine.”

I tugged out of her grip, weaving through the people before she could ask anymore questions. I went outside onto the porch and did another look over outside, where dozens of bodies were scattered as well.

But no Peeta.

He was gone, then.

It was ten after midnight and I’d done exactly what Glimmer and Clove had set out for me to. It was done but I felt no relief.

All I could do was agree with Peeta...

He shouldn’t have come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may post Chapter Four earlier this week as a special treat for Thanksgiving. Just depends on if I can finish editing in time. So be on the lookout! ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. September 28-30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** Chapter Trigger Warning: ** Bullying

* * *

_A hundred bad days made a hundred good stories, _

_a hundred good stories make me interesting at parties._

-AJR

* * *

I woke up unable to tell if the noise outside was a new party starting or a continuation of last night’s. There was a glorious moment where I laid in the blissful ignorance of sleep, able to believe it was just another Saturday.

I rolled over onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, amazed that the light streaming through my opened blinds wasn’t giving me a debilitating headache.

_ “Fuck Michigan! Go Nightlocks!” _

I jolted at the sudden wave of cheers and screams coming from the streets. People tailgating already before heading over to the stadium for the game.

That was when it hit me. Everything that had gone down last night and that none of it had been a dream. I replayed the events that unfolded. Bringing Peeta upstairs only to be interrupted by Glimmer and her dumb camera. The raw look on his face as he left me alone in the bedroom. There was no way he hadn’t put two and two together and figured out that he had played a key role in a horrible joke.

I groaned, rolling over in bed and pulled the blankets up over my head. As if it would protect me from the truths of last night.

The door swung open and noise flooded the room from the busy hallway. Feet slapped loudly against the wood floors, and then someone started rooting through every damn drawer in the room obnoxiously. 

“Could you be a little quieter?” I moaned, sitting up in bed with narrowed eyes. Glimmer jumped, clutching her heart. 

“Good lord, you scared me. I thought you were asleep.”

“I should be. It’s Saturday.”

“Yeah and there’s a block party starting up the street,” she informed me, possessing no shame as she dropped her towel and shimmed into a pair of underwear. “You’re welcome for the coconut water, by the way. I saved you from spending the day suffering a massive hangover.”

I regarded the half-drunk bottle of coconut water on the desk beside me with little emotion. 

“It was more kindness than you probably deserved after you _ yelled _ at me.”

I remembered it well. The rage that built up and spilled over after Peeta left; rage at myself for having been the one to make him leave. For listening to my idiot friends when I knew it was wrong. Rage at said idiots for getting drunk and _ telling _ him--that so wasn’t part of the plan.

After I failed to find Peeta, I marched back into the house, thrown back a shot of tequila and confronted Glimmer’s ass right in the center of the kitchen.

_ “You are such a bitch! What is your problem?” _

_ “Honey, I am a bitch. We’re all bitches,” _ she’d laughed, tossing the pink glittery boa she’d collected over her shoulder dramatically. _ “The sooner you stop acting like you aren’t one, the better off you’ll be. Just own it and stop bringing down my vibe.” _

_ “Fuck you, Glimmer.” _

_ “You’re my fifth offer tonight.” _

I didn’t remember how I’d gotten back to the Theta house, or in bed for that matter, but I was still wearing the same jeans and top from last night. My mascara had clumped and my hair was a tangled up mess hanging over my shoulders. 

“Are you getting up? I’ll wait for you if you can be ready in thirty.”

“I’m not going to the football game,” I hissed, glaring at her. “I don’t even want to think about _ football.” _

“Like I care about football,” she laughed. “I’m going because it’s _ fun. _ So you can either sit in bed moping about last night or you can come and mope outside with everyone else and maybe loosen up a bit.”

“Who were you talking to last night?” I asked. 

Her fingers stilled their typing on her cell phone and she looked up at me with a look of masked disinterest. 

“Hmm?”

“Last night, when you…” I trailed off with a pointed look. Glimmer blinked. “When you _ came in. _ You were clearly talking to someone.”

“Oh.” She gave me a flippant wave of her hand. “I wasn’t talking to anyone. I was recording.”

“You were recording?” I repeated with a quirked eyebrow. “For what?”

“For Instagram,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “It was a live.”

“You’re joking, right?” I asked, voice raising an octave as I flung out of bed. “Please tell me that’s one of your weird jokes that I don’t fully understand.” 

“No,” she giggled, combing through her hair. _ “Ow, _ what are you doing?”

I crossed the room, pushing her out of the way before grabbing my phone from its charger and pulling up the app. 

“Is it gone? Did you save it when you finished?” 

“Think so. Why, you want to see? Kinky, Katniss.”

Glimmer’s story was one of the first on my feed and I clicked it open with shaky fingers. 

Options came up: _ Story _ or _ Live. _

It was _ still there. _

I clicked it, turned up the volume and watched in horror as the clip began in the dark living room downstairs. Glimmer had on her boa, drink in hand and guy wrapped around her waist as she scanned the party with her phone.

_ “If you’re not at the Lambda house tonight, what are you even doing with your life?” _ she asked behind the camera as comments began popping up lower on the screen. I clicked through several minutes of her dancing, drinking, taping other people dancing and drinking, shoving the camera in people’s faces and then finally heading up the staircase. 

_ “Let’s take a tour of this lovely establishment, shall we?” _She walked the halls, talking in ridiculous drunken detail about every damn square inch and I fast forwarded again, stomach in knots, almost not able to take it.

_ “What’s behind door number three?” _The door opened, and I was staring at my ass, straddling Peeta’s waist with my hands in his hair and his on my hips.

_ “Oh, gross!” _

We broke apart, deer in the headlights as we turned to face Glimmer simultaneously. I exited out of the story, slamming my phone face down on the desk as if the action would stop the video from existing.

“Glimmer, have you lost your mind? Delete that!”

“Okay, _ Jesus _. You really need to get on some medication or something because it’s way too early to be yelling like this. Can’t be healthy.”

“Delete it.” I insisted, pacing the room while running my hands through my hair. _ “Delete. It.” _

“It’s deleted!” 

“How many people have seen that?” I asked, snatching the phone from her hand to make sure it was actually gone. I glanced through the photos and videos she’d posted to make sure there was nothing else incriminating on it and didn’t at all like the number of people who had seen them. 

Glimmer had thousands of followers. 

“A couple hundred,” she said, easily. “Maybe a thousand, I don’t know. I’m not obsessed.”

At my intense glare, she shrugged her shoulders and held her hand out for the phone. I slapped it into her waiting palm and grabbed my own, looking through Instagram again and searching every tag imaginable from last night.

#Lambdasigma #universityofpanem #wisconsinnightlocks #panemnightlocks #collegeparty

“Fuck,” I whispered to myself, blood running cold as the video popped up again and again in the timeline of each hashtag. Clipped segments. All Peeta and I. 

_ Report. Block. _

_ Report. Block. _

Each time I’d report one, another would rise from the ashes like a fucking virus. I opened one up from username: CAMPUSFAIL and read the description:

** _Sorority girls @uofpanem play trick on party loser. _ **

Five_ thousand _ comments. 

_ Umm...that “ _ loser” _ happens to play center for the Nightlocks football team. Currently undefeated this season so...who are the real losers here? _

_ That Peeta Mellark? Brah… he got played. _

_ And THIS is why I don’t go to frat parties. They’re all bitches. _

_ Omg Peeta is a literal puppy. Congratulations, @thetaphibeta, you kicked a *literal fucking puppy*. _

_ Call me a loser any day if I get to have a fine ass like that riding me. _

_ What a bunch of pathetic cunts. _

Report. Block. 

I closed Instagram, heart pounding frighteningly fast, and I had to sit down before I passed out. 

_ What did she do? _

I had to text Peeta. At this point it would be damage control rather than a warning, as I doubted that he was clueless to what had happened. If the sheer number of comments on _ one _ of the videos posted was any indication, his phone had probably been blowing up for hours. 

It was almost nine in the morning. Two hours until kick off. Would he be practicing already? Still in bed? On his way to the stadium? I had no idea, but it didn’t matter. I knew what he had to be thinking. Glimmer had so much as put it in his mind. And the uploaded video had solidified the fact that last night--this whole past week--had been some elaborate joke meant to embarrass him.

I could barely type the words to him with shaky fingers.

_ Me (8:47am): Peeta, it’s Katniss. I’m only saying that because I’m sure you’ve deleted my number by now. We need to talk. I know you’re busy, but please reply and say we can at least do that. _

“Chop chop,” Glimmer said, clapping her hands together at me. She was fully dressed in Nightlock’s team spirit attire, admiring herself in the mirror. “I know how long it takes you to get ready. We’ll be lucky to get a solid hour of tailgating in before the game starts.”

“Going out?”

A light rasp sounded against the open door and Cashmere stood in the entryway of it. Her normally sunny, welcoming smile was downcast in a hard line and behind her a few sisters peered at us with worry before heading down the stairs in escape.

Her heel-clad foot tapped impatiently against the floor, awaiting reply.

“Hey Cashmere,” Glimmer greeted easily. _ Oblivious _. “Yeah, we’re going to catch some tailgating before the game.”

Noting her red sweater over top of a white button up blouse, Glimmer asked; “Are you going out, too?”

“I was planning on it, but I received some disturbing news this morning that needs my attention more. Katniss, I need you to put some clothes on, lamb, and have both of you join me in the study room. Say five minutes? Grab Clove too.”

We stood motionless for a moment; Glimmer’s head tilted in confusion, my body paralyzed by the onslaught of fear that had raged through it since waking up.

Cashmere’s expression hardened if possible.

_ “Now.” _

Five minutes later we were gathered around one of the small square tables in the study room. Next to Cashmere was Delly; sorority _ Vice President _ , and Maysilee, the sorority _ Standards _chair. 

Not good.

Maysilee walked in with a tray of coffee, setting one down in front of each of us before joining. The sound of her chair sliding in closer to the table was deafening in the silent room. For a moment, we all sat there, no one making a move to speak or even reach out for their drinks.

Cashmere waited, tapping her nails against the ceramic mug patiently as her eyes landed on each of us individually.

“Can we all agree not to play dumb and pretend to not know why we’re here?” she finally asked, getting to the meat of it. “It’s a beautiful Saturday morning. I know I’d much rather be out having fun with my friends than doing this. So don’t waste any more of my time, okay?”

I met Delly’s eyes from across the table, searching them. Immediately hers flickered down to the coffee cup, teeth grinding beneath a flexed jaw. 

“Glimmer, why don’t you start us off?” Cashmere said, leaning forward on her fisted hand. “What happened last night?”

“We went to the Lambda Sigma house--”

“--In regards to the video you posted on your Instagram account. About Peeta Mellark.” She cut her off, past the point of pretending to stay calm.

Glimmer smirked and I wanted to lean over and smack her.

“You saw that?”

_ “Everyone _saw it. Octavia woke up to hundreds of messages on the Theta account she’s still trying to reply to. My text inbox was bombarded, as I’m sure were all of yours. It’s campus wide news and it’s not even ten in the morning. I don’t know about you, but I was not prepared to be explaining why three of my Thetas thought it was a good idea to mess with one of the Nightlocks!”

“It was just a joke!” Glimmer said with a roll of her eyes, turning to us for backup. My face was flaming hot, so warm to the touch that I desired an ice pack just to get back to normal temperature. Clove stayed quiet as well, leaning back in her seat and studying her clasped hands.

“Katniss? Clove?” Cashmere asked. “Is that how you felt? That this was all just some joke?”

“It started out that way,” Clove said, lowly. “No one was supposed to find out.”

“How did this happen?”

“Katniss needed money--” Glimmer started.

“I didn’t _ need _ money,” I interrupted. 

“Really? Because that’s not how it looked to me Thursday night when Cashmere came around to collect for the socials.”

“I told you I wanted out,” I said, voice hardly recognizable as mine under the emotion. “I told you it was going too far, but you blackmailed me into playing your puppet--”

“Everyone calm down,” Cashmere interjected, holding her hands up. “Glimmer and Clove, did you promise Katniss money if she brought this guy to the party as a joke?”

“Yeah,” Clove said, instantly. Glimmer nodded.

“Katniss, did you know fully what was expected of you when you took the money?”

“Yes.”

“That alone goes against what we stand for at Theta Kappa Phi. It goes against the rules clearly stated in your entry packet about our zero tolerance hazing and bullying policy. That was not limited to Theta sisters. It wasn’t limited to other women. Anyone can be a victim of bullying and what you did last night was unacceptable.”

Laughter escaped Glimmer, and everyone's eyes landed on her wearing different emotions of shock, disgust, confusion. In reply, she gave us an incredulous look.

“He’s an overweight jock. If that in itself isn’t a walking contradiction I don’t know what is. The guy could probably kill me just by sitting on me and you’re going to claim I _ bullied _ him? If I cried over every joke I’ve been on the receiving end of, I’d never be able to wear mascara. He needs to grow up.”

“No Glimmer, _ you do,” _Delly said, before Cashmere could say another word. “Admit when you’re wrong. Fix your mistakes. Don’t keep deflecting to shift the blame off of yourself!”

“Here’s the point: all three of you were out of line. Your behavior last night in public and on social media while representing Theta was unacceptable. As a result, you will all face the honor board with the entire chapter present to decide what further steps need to be taken. Until then you are all on probation. Your hearings will be tomorrow at noon.”

“Probation?” Glimmer asked, confusion widening her eyes. “I can’t go out?”

“Not unless it’s to study or to work.”

Two things Glimmer never did. 

“That’s entirely unfair,” she claimed. “All this for a joke? Everyone has lost their minds.”

“I would save anything else you have to say for the honor board,” Cashmere warned, standing up. “You’re dismissed.”

Maysilee and Delly followed her lead, turning to head out of the room without a second glance in our direction.

“Delly. Delly!” I said, catching her before she could slip through the door. She stopped when I put a hand on her shoulder, but refused to face me. Deeply, she inhaled and tapped her hand impatiently against her notebook.

“Hey,” I frowned. “Are you mad at me?”

She scratched above her eyebrow, seeming lost for words as she regarded my question.

“I don’t know.” she said, voice stern. “I’m all for having fun, Katniss. I’m all for a good time...but you crossed a line. _ Really. _It wasn’t cool. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She stormed out before I could say another word, and I was left with just silence in her wake.

* * *

It was the longest weekend I could remember having in a long time. 

My feelings warred with each other; a push and pull between not being able to wait for class Monday so I could get out of this house, and wishing Monday would never come...still unsure of the effect Friday will have had on it.

I called in at work, too afraid of what the atmosphere might be like with social media still blowing up about the party. Greasy Saes was a popular hangout around campus, and the Nightlocks had lost their game today. I’d seen the steady stream of comments coming in on their official Instagram page. Under the newest; a picture of some teammates on the field and the caption: **Win some, lose some. **

_ Guess we have those bitches to blame for offenses terrible game play today. _

_ We could’ve *won* them all if we’d *lose* stupid sororities on campus. _

It was past eleven thirty in the morning, Sunday. We had our honor boards in just a little while and I sat in front of my floor length mirror, curling my hair in preparation. 

Checking my phone every two seconds to see if I’d missed an alert and Peeta had messaged me back.

No such luck.

I’d shot him off a couple more texts throughout the day yesterday, just wanting to hear that it was okay. Or that we could at least talk about it. But clearly, he didn’t want to talk to me again and I couldn’t say I blamed him. 

Why couldn’t he have just been a dick? It would’ve been far more easy to watch him yell in my face or blast me on social media than the hurt and embarrassment I saw and the silence I suffered now.

“I feel like a peasant,” Glimmer complained, tucking her button up top into a pair of dress slacks and pulling her greek letter sweater over the top of it. “It’s not really their business what we decide to do amongst ourselves.”

Glimmer was insisting in pretending like this was some sort of _ team effort. _ Like it was her, Clove and I against the entire campus. All I really wanted was to be disassociated with this mess entirely, including her. I kept silent as she continued ranting, her voice slicing through me like a knife.

I braided my hair back and placed my sorority pin on my identical sweater to Glimmer’s. 

“They can’t kick us out, right?” Clove asked, sitting on my bed. 

_ They definitely could. _

I’d heard of girls being dropped by their sororities for far less. If this ‘joke’ had somehow gotten around the party and back to Cashmere by word of mouth, we probably would’ve gotten a slap on the wrist, like kitchen duty for the rest of the semester. It was bad, and not tolerated, but it would have been controlled.

The fact that everyone seemed to know, and the video was gaining more and more traction by the hour is what had Cashmere and the other board members in a fit. The culture surrounding sororities and fraternities was already shaky at best. Our names never made national news headlines for all of the community service and outreach projects we played a role in. They made it for the drunk hazing gone wrong. For the pranks and stupid stunts. The bullying, the stupidity, the parties and drugs. The greek life reputation was walking a tightrope and if the school decided to shut Theta down, Cashmere would ultimately have to answer for it. 

This could be the push that tipped the cow on its back.

“This is a witch hunt,” Glimmer continued. “They’re just bored because this is the most interesting thing to happen to Theta in years. They’re only using us as an example so that if the school comes for Cashmere she can say she punished us. It’s bullshit.”

“I don’t know, Glimmer,” Clove said, shifting on the bed. “It was pretty fucked up.”

“It wasn’t like I _ meant _to tape them!” Glimmer snapped. “I didn’t expect her to be in the room dry humping the dude.”

“But when you _ did _ realize they were in there…”

“I was drunk and caught by surprise! Jeez, whose side are you on? Theirs or ours?”

She pointed between herself and me, and I couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“There are no sides,” I replied, angrily. “And if there were, I wouldn’t want to be on yours.”

Hurt crossed her face at my words, like she hadn’t read my anger throughout the weekend at all and was shocked to see me lashing out now. It quickly disintegrated into one of superiority.

“I’ll remember that next time you’re scrounging up pennies and need to borrow someone’s credit card.”

“Glimmer, calm down,” Clove said. “No one is getting kicked out. We just need to stay calm and apologize--”

Her words were cut off by a knock on the door. A moment later, Delly poked her head into the room. 

“We’re ready for you girls downstairs.”

* * *

It was strange having a room all to myself; a luxury I hadn’t ever experienced even before my time at Panem, when I shared a bedroom with my sister growing up.

The walls seemed thinner, every little noise easily picked up on because it was so quiet. I played music from my phone to squelch some of the awkward silence.

By the end of the day, someone will have moved into Glimmer’s old bed and I’d have a roommate again, so I told myself to try and take advantage of the short moment of peace while it lasted.

I’d been staring at the blank document on my computer for a half an hour, waiting for inspiration to strike so that I could write my essay and have it finished before the start of the week. But nothing came. My brain was doing full circle loops, playing this weekend on repeat until I was nauseous.

Peeta still wouldn’t talk to me.

Glimmer was gone.

Our honor board hearings had taken a rocky turn. I had gone first and plead guilty immediately, apologizing and promising to do my best to help restore Theta’s reputation. It was unanimously decided that I would be placed on probation for the rest of the semester and re-evaluated at the start of spring. That meant no parties unless it was specified by the board that I could attend--which was code for; _ I’d be required to go to all of the boring events, and left back at the sorority house for anything fun _\--no posting on social media, no boys.

Class. Work. Home.

Clove was given the same punishment.

Glimmer had thrown a fit, insisting that she wasn’t going to miss out on parties for the rest of the fall, or give up her social media accounts. I watched as her temper flared higher and higher as she debated back and forth with Cashmere until finally she had crossed the line.

_ “Glimmer, say one more word and we will vote to have you removed from the Theta house all together,” Cashmere said, voice eerily calm as she challenged her sister. “Think long and hard about that. No one wants to see you leave, but if you can’t follow the rules you will leave us no choice.” _

_ “This is bullshit,” she snickered to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. Cashmere’s lips pursed into a line. _

_ “All in favor of revoking Glimmer Davis’s Theta Kappa Phi status, please raise your hand.” _

_ Nearly every hand raised, except for Clove’s and mine, as we weren’t allowed to vote. _

_ Cashmere held out her hand. _

_ “Pin, please.” _

Glimmer was packed up and completely moved out less than six hours later. I didn’t know where she was going--she wouldn’t even talk to me as she slammed her belongings into suitcases and boxes and called some of the guys to help her get everything out.

I was as relieved as I was sad. Just a week ago, I considered Glimmer a friend. But everything before Friday night felt like so long ago.

I glanced down at my phone and read the time as 6:30am. It was time to start getting ready for class. I washed my face and applied a light layer of makeup, not anything like the full face I was used to doing. I pulled my hair back into a braid and went for a modest look of button up sweater tucked into high-waisted dress pants. 

When I couldn’t stall any longer, I took a deep breath, hitched my purse up on my shoulder and started my walk towards campus. 

It was raining..._ again. _The fall day was as gloomy and depressed as I felt. I could’ve taken the bus, probably should have, but I needed the time to prepare myself for the day I was surely in for. I opened my umbrella, placed earbuds into my ears, and walked the dreary campus streets, littered with fallen leaves and puddles.

I feigned indifference but was not immune to the blatant stares and whispers corralled my way the closer I got to heavier populated areas. The video clip was all everyone was talking about--at least, when I entered the room, it was. 

I walked up to the counter of the coffee house in Union, my go-to café, usually with Clove or Glimmer in tow, but today, alone. Behind the counter, the few baristas who knew me well all worked busily to fill the rush of orders they received early morning in a timely fashion. Flavius looked up from the hot chocolae he was making, and his eyes held a hint of hesitation as he slid the cup across the counter at me. Ready before I’d even ordered. 

“Extra whipped cream,” he told me. “You’ll just have to loosen your belt a notch.”

“Thanks,” I said, palming the cup. “I need it.”

“How are you doing?” he asked, leaning against the bar with an eyebrow raised. The way he asked led me to believe he already knew the answer.

“You saw the video?” I asked skeptically and Flavius rolled his eyes.

“Everyone on campus saw that video.” 

I groaned, very self aware of the other students who lingered close and could easily pick up our conversation.

Flavius’s normally outgoing, larger than life personality was masked with somber lips and troubled eyes. 

“You probably hate me now.”

“Doll, I could never hate you,” he promised, reaching across to hold my hand in his. “We can all be petty bitches, we just don’t normally go viral when it happens. And just so we’re clear...you were totally a petty bitch.”

I inhaled deeply, stomach still knotted. I don’t think I’d had a decent meal since...shit, since Peeta paid for my dinner Friday night. Cue another rolling wave of nausea.

“This whole thing has been blown way out of proportion,” I told him quietly. “It wasn’t...it wasn’t supposed to happen that way.”

“I need the dirty details, but I’ve got a line building. Maybe later this evening? Over drinks?”

“I can’t,” I sighed. “I’m on probation.” Plus, it was time for me to head back to Greasy Sae’s for a shift. I’d called in twice already, if I did it another time I was sure I’d be fired. If I wasn’t already…

“Yuck.”

“I’ll text you later.”

He nodded, moving on to filling the next drink order.

“Keep your head up, sweetness.” 

Easier said than done, I quickly realized, as I walked the halls of the Union building and was greeted by an onslaught of stares ranging from curious to downright angry.

“Hey,” a deep voice called out to me, from across the cafe area. My steps stuttered, and I pushed a stray hair back before looking over at the group of guys crowded around a table, all focused on me.

Everyone in the vicinity was focused on me.

“You Katniss Everdeen?” 

I swallowed, then nodded.

“Fuck you,” he said and the resounding cheers and fists slamming against the table in agreement caused an eruption of noise. I turned away quickly, heading out the main doors and away but not before I could hear another loud and firm _ fuck you _ in the distance.

I stumbled into the atrium by accident; not heading anywhere in particular. Just trying to get away from the bulk of the student body. It was quiet, with a few couches and tables, and I breathed a sigh of relief to see I was it's only inhabitant. 

Okay, so I would just hide out here every morning, then. 

I sat down on one of the couches and placed my bag next to me. My teeth grinded together as I resisted the urge to do something dumb like cry, now that the adrenaline of the situation was wearing off. The pending tears I blinked away weren’t of sadness or embarrassment, but anger. Still...I had no right to them.

Before I could fully register what I was doing, I called Prim. She had the day off of school, so there was a good chance she was still in bed, but I couldn’t stop myself from clicking her contact information.

She answered on the third ring with a barely passable _ hello? _And I couldn’t help smiling when I heard her yawn obnoxiously into the receiver.

“Katniss?”

“Hey, little duck.”

“Quack, quack,” she said dryly, and I heard shifting on the bed. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

“Why does something have to be wrong for me to call?” I protested.

“Because it’s…” she paused. “Nine in the morning. Don’t you have class?”

“It’s only eight here,” I reminded her. “I have time before my first class starts. I just wanted to call and say hi.” 

“Oh, hello.” She yawned again, muttering something about coffee beneath her breath. “How are things going? _ Oohh _ did you go to that party friday night?”

Prim was a sophomore in high school. With college just two short years away, she was vastly interested in the dynamics of campus life. Primarily, _weekend_ campus life. I think I went up a few “cool points” in my sisters book when I decided to rush for a sorority. Definitely bumped my status up when I decided to join one. She loved hearing about all the house drama and gossiping about parties and social events.

Naturally, I’d mentioned friday nights party at Lambda to her. But, a week ago when we’d last spoken, I’d left out a very key detail.

“Yeah,” I answered, dully.

_ “And?” _She wasn’t going to let me off easily, and for once I was okay with that. 

With that single word, the story came out of me in a floodgate. I sat in the silent atrium, sharing every terrible detail with Prim. The only person in the world it felt like I could confide in, still. To her credit she listened with minimal interruption until finally I took a breath and leaned back against the couch, drained.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

A moment passed without another word and I grew anxious.

“Say something.”

“Sorry. I was watching the video.”

_ “Prim.” _

“What? You expected me to _ not _ after a story like that?” she scoffed. “Yeah, these comments are pretty brutal.”

“Thanks,” I said, dryly. 

A few students walked into the atrium and I took it as my cue to leave. I pinched the phone between my shoulder blade and cheek as I gathered up my things and headed down the hallway.

“Someone said you have no soul,” she snorted, only laughing more when I told her it wasn’t funny.

“Well obviously it’s not true,” she said, brushing my frustration off. “If it were, you wouldn’t be calling to confess this to your sister at 8am on a Monday.” 

“So, you don’t hate me?” I asked, stomach still knotted. “Because if ever there were a time, this would be it. I’m not too fond of myself right now, either.”

“I don’t hate you,” she promised. “I don’t _ love _ that you did that...especially for money. It’s a little, I don’t know, yucky.” 

It definitely was. 

“I know. But, thanks for not ripping into me. Not sure I could handle that right now.”

“It seems like you’ve got enough people doing that,” she said gently. “Did you apologize to him?”

“I tried. He won’t return my messages.”

“I don’t blame him.”

“Yeah.”

“Give it time, Kat. It’ll blow over. Maybe probation is a blessing. It’ll give someone else time to do something stupid and then no one will remember what you did anymore.”

I paused as I passed by the library, heart catching as I caught sight of Peeta inside. I don’t know why I was so surprised to see him there--he’d told me that he studied there often. I guess it was just that I’d actually run into him. After obsessing for the past several days, it felt like an out of body experience to see him in real life.

He sat at a table near the far end, up against the large windows. Thick black headphones covered his ears and he had books splayed out on either side of his laptop while his pencil tapped out a beat against the table.

He looked...tired. Like he was just trying to camouflage himself into the room so he could escape into his own bubble for a while. I felt guilty for even debating popping it and entering his private space, but I also found hesitation in leaving.

“Prim, I have to go.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll call you later.”

Stalking was definitely not my best look, but I was short on other options for rectifying the situation and coaxing an acceptance of my apology out of him. Clearly, messaging him wasn’t going to work and if I left it up to chance to hunt him down again, there was no telling how much time would pass before our next encounter.

He took a sip of his coffee, eyes never looking up as he scribbled something down on his notebook.

_ Just do it. _ I took a deep breath, smoothed a hand over my blouse and then hair, and made my way over to his table. Sensing my presence, he glanced up with his eyes only, curiously, and I watched the serenity drain from his face as he took me in. His shoulders stiffened and he sat up straighter, pulling the headphones down to rest around his neck.

“Hi,” I said, wanting nothing more than to be greeted by one of his shy warm smiles, rather than the shifting eyes and tinted skin I stared at now. He finally looked at me again and scratched a nervous hand over the back of his head. 

“Hey.”

Silence fell between us and I pointed to his coffee cup.

“Caught you.”

His eyebrows furrowed, confused.

_ “Second Rebellion, _” I said, thinking about turning around and aborting all together. I held my ground. “You coffee snob.”

“Oh, yeah.” He forced a smile, but it vanished almost instantly as I pulled a chair out across the table from him and took the seat.

“I’m sorry about the game. I heard you guys...lost.”

That was putting it lightly. They were creamed--7 to 35; a shocking loss. I wasn’t the only one facing brutal commentary online. 

_ What an embarrassing time to be a Nightlocks fan. _

_ Pathetic effort. Just pathetic. _

_ Offense fucked us over. We can kiss our season goodbye. _

“It wasn’t our best.”

“Will it mess up the rest of the season? That you lost?” I was trying not to sound completely clueless, but I was sure he could tell I was floundering. 

“It shouldn’t,” he said, politely. _ Too politely. _ He shouldn’t even be talking to me, let alone entertaining my dumb football questions. I couldn’t help but think if the roles had been reversed, I would likely be cursing him out right now. 

But, I wasn’t going to question it. If he was letting me talk to him then I needed to take full advantage of the opportunity. 

“Look, I really think we need to talk,” I said. 

“I don’t know...”

“--I texted you.” There was no way to not sound pathetic. “Did you get any of them?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that,” he said. He closed the notebook on the desk and stacked it on top of his laptop. Slowly packing up. It didn’t escape my notice. “It was a busy weekend. I had my phone off most of it.”

“Peeta.”

His hands tangled in themselves on top of the table, fidgeting nervously. 

“You can’t even look at me anymore?” 

As if on cue, his blue eyes turned up to meet mine, piercing through my body with an intensity that caused me to suck in a breath. 

“I just...don’t have anything to say about that night, really,” Peeta said, his admission slow to come. 

“Then just listen. I need you to know how sorry I am.”

“It’s okay.”

“I didn’t mean any of it. Well, I guess I meant _ some _ of it. I meant to kiss you. I just didn’t mean for--” I cut myself off short, biting my lip. Peeta waited.

“You didn’t mean...what?” he finally prompted.

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” I whispered the admission, ashamed. His jaw clenched, I could see it despite his thicker cheeks and the layer of hair that peppered his face. 

“I know.” He slid his notebook and laptop into his waiting backpack and hitched it over his shoulder, making a move to stand. I placed on top of his, stilling him, before he twitched away from the grasp.

“I’m sorry, Peeta.”

He hesitated, and then replied; “It’s okay, Katniss.”

“It is?” I found it difficult to believe, but his neutral features and calm disposition did little to argue against it.

“I’m fine. It’s fine. Apology accepted.”

It seemed...too easy.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I have to head out.”

Last week he told me his Monday classes didn’t start until one in the afternoon. A quick glance at the clock read the time as quarter to eleven.

“To get away from me?” I wondered out loud, craning my neck to look up at him as he rose to full height. He seemed uncomfortable with the question, shifting his weight for a moment before sighing heavily through his nostrils.

“Yeah,” he finally said. 

He pushed the chair in and walked out of the library without another word, leaving me alone and stunned for the second time in less than a week. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving! Hope everyone enjoy their holiday <3


	5. October 11

* * *

_You fooled me with your kisses,_

_ you cheated and you schemed._

_Heaven knows how you lied to me..._

_you're not the way you seemed._

-Elvis Presley

* * *

Almost two weeks had passed since my run in with Peeta at the library.

Two long, _ painful, _and draining weeks filled with days of lonely confinement to the sorority house, class and work. A schedule that had become as spontaneous as living in a nursing home. The excitement and constant entertainment that had drawn me to sorority life was ripped away and I spent my evenings and weekends holed up in my bedroom; a front row seat to the fun happening right outside of my window. Just like Freshman year. 

The probation had been a relief at first. Nearly every run-in I had on campus was met with bitter stares and laughter at best...belligerent, possibly intoxicated students at its worst. The only time I could actually afford to relax was behind the closed door of my bedroom.

But, with a full course load, I wasn’t afforded the luxury of hiding as much as I wanted. 

Environmental Science had just begun when Professor called everyone’s attention to the front of the lab to read a letter from the University.

“The University of Panem Wisconsin holds onto the strong belief that all students have a right to a safe and healthy school environment. We strive to instill the characteristics of respect, tolerance and acceptance in all who attend our school. 

This letter, which is expected to be read in the first class of the day the entire week of October 7th-11th is to remind and inform students that bullying and harassment of any nature; be it physical or verbal threats, teasing or name calling, in person or via the cyber-web is not tolerated on campus--”

“You wouldn’t know anything about this, would you Princess?” Johanna Mason, my lab partner, leaned over to whisper in my ear as Professor continued to read. I ignored her, resting my head in my open palm so that my hair hung over the side of it in a curtain blocking me from the world. 

I could feel the heat of stares and not-so-subtle glances being cast in my direction. Everyone knew what incident the letter was in reference to. What they didn’t know was that this was the only action the University had taken in response to the viral video from _ two weeks _ ago.

They were just trying to cover themselves in case it continued to grow. 

I scribbled a continuous circle in my notebook, never looking up, until the letter finally finished in what felt like centuries later.

“Right, now with that being said, let’s get right into things. I want you to use the rest of the class time to work on your group research projects.”

The semester long ecosystem restoration research projects counted for a third of the final class grade; a grade that was weighted as a group with no individual credit or points given. It felt like I’d drawn the short end of the stick in that regard. There was Johanna Mason, who hated me just as much as I did her and was not shy about voicing it, Beetee Jackson who would be tolerable if it weren’t for his _ know it all, superior attitude, _and Wendy ‘Wiress’ Goldblum.

I didn’t know for sure why people called her Wiress, but I’d heard stories. It was no secret she was deeply involved in the stoner circle on campus--she often came to class reeking of weed--but the rumor was she occasionally dabbled in harder drugs and became deeply fascinated by the workings of electricity one night in the thick of her high. Shocked the hell out of herself. 

But, I didn’t know how much of that was true or not.

Beetee and Wiress were good friends in and outside of class, which helped to balance some of the tension that naturally radiated throughout the odd group. 

I’d known Johanna Mason since Freshman year. Our major was not one of the most popular on campus, which meant smaller class sizes and a whole lot of time spent with each other throughout the program. We’d shared at least one class a semester together for the past two and a half years, but it had done nothing to spark friendship. 

“We need to lock in everyone’s individual contributions,” Johanna started, taking over as soon as Beetee and Wiress pulled their chairs up to our table. She pushed a lock of her cheaply dyed red hair back behind her ear with the eraser tip of her pencil and left it there. 

“I wouldn’t mind gathering data on the rapid decline of the ecosystem and mankind’s role in it’s deterioration--” Beetee began, only to be cut off by a flippant hand from Johanna.

“Great. Wiress, think you can handle the graphic designs?”

She shrugged indifferently, not one for much talking, but returned my smile with kindness when our eyes met.

“I’ll work on the economical advantages an improvement could bring,” Johanna announced, scribbling down in her notebook before eyeing me with an always-present level of irritation. “We better give Homecoming Queen something easy, seeing as she’s not the sharpest tool in the box.”

“Okay, seriously?” I hissed, slapping a hand down against my notebook.

“What? You picked a guy from the most popular sports team on campus to publicly humiliate. So, you’re either an idiot, or your head is too far up your ass to be socially aware. Which is it?” 

“Um, in Katniss’s defense, in your attempt to shame her for bullying Peeta Mellark, you’re kind of bullying her.”

“Thank you, Beetee,” I said, choosing to ignore his use of the word _ bully _in regards to my behavior towards Peeta and how it made my heart pinch. Johanna chose the same moment to tell him to mind his own business. 

“All I’m saying is that my grade is linked to your work,” she continued, defensively. “So is it so wrong to take extra precautions?”

“I’m sure I can manage.”

“Fine. Why don’t you work on restoration ideas and timelines?”

“Great,” I replied.

_ “Great.” _

“Well...I think this will go smoothly,” Beetee replied after a terse moment, nervousness lacing his tone. 

I ground my teeth together and forced a smile, but was still irritated about the encounter hours later, after I’d gotten back to the sorority house and was holed away in my bedroom.

“What are you working on?” 

I came up for a breath from my laptop and turned to regard Delly, across the room. 

After Glimmer had moved out, she offered to move in with me. I knew it was because the board wanted to keep a closer eye on me. My own personal jailer. There was no other reasoning behind why she would choose to leave her room with Cashmere and move down the hall with a lower class man. Especially _ me. _

Delly swore that she volunteered, but after the tension between us when everything came out about Peeta, I had a hard time believing that.

_ “Entomology _,” I sighed. “I’m trying to get the rough draft of this essay done before I go to work.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“It’s the study of insects.”

“You’re writing a paper on bugs?” 

“Pollination patterns of the honey bee, specifically.” 

“Your major amazes me,” Delly laughed with a shake of her head. “Bug Science. That’s really a class? You’re not messing with me?”

“Painfully serious.”

“Well, it’s very proactive of you to get ahead,” she complimented, lifting eight pound barbells over her head as she laid horizontal on top of her bed. 

“I have a lot of spare time these days,” I replied with a hint of a smile. The free time had been good to me. I was ahead in nearly all of my classes, and without as many conflicts in my schedule I was able to sign up for a couple more shifts at Sae’s. 

But there were times where I truly felt like pulling my hair out of my head. Like a child who was forced to stay home Saturday night with her parents while her friends all had a sleepover.

I was ready for the probation to be over, but grateful that it was the only punishment I had received.

“You’ll get to have a little fun, soon,” Delly promised. “The Pumpkin Patch Bash is next weekend.”

“I’m actually looking forward to it this year.” I wasn’t even being sarcastic.

Delly sat up and shoved her dumbbells under the bed before changing out of her comfortable sweats and into spandex leggings.

“Practice?” I guessed and she nodded, pulling her blonde curls up into a bun on her head.

“Yeah, coach added in an extra because of Homecoming tomorrow.” She shrugged, slipping into her sneakers. “Hope work goes well. See you later.”

“Bye. Have fun.”

“Thanks. Don’t.” 

I laughed and she smiled, winking at me over her shoulder before disappearing. I sighed, rubbing my tight shoulder blades before shutting my laptop. It was almost time to head into work. 

Attire was pretty relaxed at Greasy Sae’s, so I was able to keep my comfortable jeans on and paired them with the _ Nightlocks _ t-shirt Clove and I had cropped last year. Because it was Homecoming, it was expected that we went the extra mile to really show off _ team spirit _. 

I traded my normal hair tie for a red scrunchie, mix matched my socks red and navy and threw a couple of Nightlocks rubber bracelets around my wrist. Grabbing my purse and my cell phone, I made sure my bus pass was inside for later tonight when the streets got too dark and sketchy to walk or bike home in, and then headed down the stairs.

The house was nearly empty, save for Clove and the couple of other girls who had gathered in the television room to watch scary movies and save the partying for tomorrow night. I waved goodbye to them after stealing a handful of their popcorn and headed for the front door.

The walk to the District was an easy one, with enough students invading the passing frat houses and packed streets to make me feel safe walking alone despite the set sun. I glanced at my watch, reading the time as 6:15pm. Just another sad reminder that summer was officially on its way out. Another being that I should’ve brought a jacket. The sun wasn’t the only thing that had dropped.

Sae’s was crowded when I clocked in. A sea of red clad students, playing at the pool and ice hockey tables near the entrance, or crowded around one of the several televisions broadcasting an array of sports. I weaved through the tables, collecting empty cups into a bin and wiping down dirty tables. 

Homecoming had put people in relatively good moods and they were all too busy celebrating to notice me in their presence. Normally, I might be compelled to join in the fun. My boss was pretty cool about that sort of thing, and past a certain time of night as long as it didn’t interfere with our work, he didn’t mind us playing a round of beer pong or joining in on the sing along's with the entire restaurant--a standard practice here on a Friday night. 

“Katniss.”

I turned at the sound of my name, coming from over by the bar area. Marvel was leaning over the wood table top separating him from the rest of us. Muscular arms bulging beneath the sleeves of his long shirt, pulled up midway. He wore his baseball cap backwards, a little tuft of hair sticking out from the hole.

“You look like you could use a drink,” he offered with a winning smile. 

“How did you know?” I asked, stepping closer to join him. He took the trash bag from my hands and shoved it in the back corner for one of the busboys to bring out to the dumpsters.

“Wild guess.”

“Well, you’re right. But unfortunately, I can’t.”

“Right.” Realization dawned on him. “Probation.”

I nodded. Last thing I needed was for a few of the sisters to walk in--a strong probability at Sae’s--and see me fisting a drink. I was only allowed to drink in the presence of a sober sister.

Ugh.

“Do you always follow the rules?” he asked, almost like a dare.

“No,” I laughed, pushing a stray piece of hair that had escaped my braid back behind my ears. “That’s how I got into this trouble to begin with.”

“You know, something still confuses me about that night.” 

“What?”

He busied himself with drying some of the fresh glasses brought out from the dishwasher as we talked.

“You looked so pissed off when I implied that Mellark wasn’t your type.” 

I remembered my conversation with Marvel that night well. By the time he approached me at the party, I was having a good time with Peeta. _ I was starting to really like him. _ And I was sick of all of my friends implying that he wasn’t good enough.

But, I wasn’t about to delve into all of that, at work, with James Marvel of all people. 

I gave a noncommittal shrug, instead. 

“All part of the act, huh?” he asked. “Guess I had your number all along.”

“Katniss.” Haymitch, my boss, came up and placed a hand on my shoulder to get my attention. “I need you to cover the booths. I had to send Jessica home with the stomach bug.”

Gross.

“Okay, will do.”

He gave me a curt nod before moving across the restaurant quickly.

I gathered a notepad from behind the bar, peering back at the tables to see what I’d be working with, and my heart almost stopped.

I had to do a double take to confirm my fear. Yep. In the furthest corner of the bar, surrounded by several other football players, was Peeta. 

They’d pushed three tables together to make one colossal sized one, overpowering the area and claiming it for themselves. Four pitchers of beer sat out along the table’s length with several half-filled cups. I could feel the tension rising in me already.

There was no way they didn’t know about the bet. And there was no way in hell I was serving their table.

“Bristel,” I whisper shouted, like there was even a chance they’d be able to hear me from across the noisy restaurant. She stopped mid-stride, a tray of drinks balanced in her hand, and looked at me curiously.

“Come here.”

She came and I set the drinks down on the counter before clutching her arm.

“I need you to do me a huge favor and I will owe you.”

“Okay…” She seemed skeptical, rightfully so. “What is it?”

“Can we change sections?” I asked. She looked at me, confused, and then along the back area I was meant to be covering. When her gaze landed on the huge group of football players she shook her head with finality.

“No way. College students already suck at tipping,” she said. “A group that size after a few drinks? I’d be screwed.”

“I’ll give you my tips.”

Bristel smiled, picking back up her tray of drinks.

“Good luck, Katniss.” 

Shit. _ Shit. _

“You sure you don’t want that drink?” Marvel asked, chuckling.

With a growl, I went through the kitchen to the back of house and locked myself into the bathroom. I leaned up against the sink with my face buried in my hands, breathing deeply. I probably had another solid minute that I could hide out before someone came looking for me. After calling in twice a few weeks ago, I preferred not to skate on thinner ice than I was already on.

I looked up in the mirror and studied myself. Fixed my makeup and took my hair down from it’s braid. I shook it out, making quick work of detangling it and let it fall into a simple long wave down my back. 

Okay. No more stalling. I just needed to get it over with.

I forced myself to be tall; keeping my head up and strides confident as I walked over towards their booth, feigning indifference.

“Are you guys ready to order?” I asked, pleased that my voice came out without quivering. Silence was met with my question and when I chanced a look down at the table I was met with several blank stares.

Most prominently, Peeta’s.

I turned away from him as quickly as I had looked and toyed with the pen in my hand.

“Do you...need a few minutes?”

“I think we’re good,” one of the guys said. His dark brown hair was pulled back in a low bun, eyes regarding me suspiciously as he leaned back in the booth with his arms folded across his broad torso.

“Okay.” My show of casualty was slipping. I could feel the pen shaking in my hand as I went to write their orders down. “Drinks? Or are we all set with the beer?”

“We need more drinks,” the same guy said, looking to his teammates, who agreed enthusiastically. They started calling out different drinks all at the same time and I tried scribbling the orders down quick enough to meet their fast paced requests.

“And we’ll need extra cups of just ice. Each.” 

“Yeah, I like a lot of ice.”

I nodded, closing the notepad with flushed cheeks. “I’ll be right back.”

Skirting away from the table, I could hear them erupt in laughter and knew I was in for a long evening. 

It only went downhill from there. When I returned with a few pitchers of soft drinks and _ thirteen cups of just ice, _they looked at me like I had seven heads.

“What the hell is this?” Man bun asked, towards the pitcher.

“Five of you asked for coke...it’s cheaper to do--”

“That isn’t what we ordered.” He refused to touch it. “We want individual glasses.”

“Gale,” Peeta’s voice sounded from the other end of the table. His ears were red, face miserable. It seemed I wasn’t the only one suffering. “It’s _ fine.” _

“The hell if it is,” Gale, apparently, insisted. 

“I’ll bring back the cups,” I interrupted, grabbing the pitchers off the table and wedging my tray beneath my arm. 

“You do that, Catpiss.” 

_ “Dude, chill out,” _I heard Peeta say as I fled from the table. I didn’t stay close enough to hear Gale’s answering reply.

Placing the food orders followed a similar fashion. Several of the guys listed dietary restrictions I was fairly sure were fake, one made me return his _ entire burger _ to the kitchen because it had tomatoes on it and yet another complained that he could _ taste a hint of gluten _ in his salad. 

“There’s no gluten in the salad,” I said, exhausted. “It’s _ a salad.” _

“I don’t want it,” he decided. “Let me order something else.”

“Okay.” I inhaled deeply. My eyes drifted to Peeta’s quickly and I saw him staring down at the table, tapping his hand against its top restlessly. “What would you like?”

“I’ll take the cuban sandwich.”

“I’m sorry but we don’t have gluten free bread.”

“It’s fine.”

I hesitated, not fully understanding.

“You...want it without bread?”

“With is fine.”

One of his idiot friends was recording the interaction, or at least pretending to, and laughing as he scanned the camera between me and the player.

“I guess I don’t get it,” I said, trying to remain cool. 

“I’m only allergic to gluten in my salad. In my sandwiches it’s fine.” 

The table erupted into laughter. They were smacking the table and stomping their feet in time with it, causing an entire scene in the back of the restaurant and drawing others attention. 

“That’s enough,” Peeta insisted, but they continued.

“Hey,” Finnick snapped, his demanding voice cutting through their harsh laughter. They died down at the sound of it. “Cut it out.”

_ Thank you. _

“Dude, you have to admit it’s fucking funny,” the _ gluten douche _ said, directing his statement towards Peeta. 

“It’s not funny to make people cry.”

I wasn’t crying, but the look on my face must’ve shown I was damn near doing so. 

“What? You can dish it but you can’t take it, sweetheart?” one of them craned around in his chair to ask me. 

“Forget it. We gotta get going anyways,” Gale replied. “Catpiss, we’ll take the check.”

Their check, which totaled upwards of two hundred dollars, was paid alongside a measly ten dollars for tip.

Honestly, it was more than I expected. 

I sighed, gathering up the massive amounts of cups and disgusting plates and piling them onto the serving tray.

“Hey.”

I jolted, turning around at the sudden noise to face Peeta. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, eyes guilty as he waited.

I could feel my annoyance flaming.

"I don't really feel like talking right now, Peeta."

"I just wanted to apologize for...all of that."

"Really?" I asked, throwing the utensils down onto the stacked plates loudly. His eyes widened as I continued to noisily clean up the filthy area.

"Yes."

"So you're saying that wasn't all done on purpose? You didn't bring your friends here to make a scene and make me feel like an ass?"

"Of course not..."

"--Because if so, great job. Mission accomplished."

"Katniss. I didn't even know you worked here," Peeta explained, calm as always, not allowing my rise to spark his own. "It's one of our favorite spots. We come here all of the time."

I sighed, rubbing a hand over my throbbing temples. I knew I was overreacting. I was mad at myself and taking it out on him. Like I hadn’t already taken enough of my problems out on him. 

"It's fine." This night had been mortifying enough without making it worse by yelling at him. Of all the people at that table, he was the least deserving. "I'm just not in a good mood.” 

"I know, and I didn't mean to make it worse. My friends are just..."

"Jerks?" I finished. 

"Defensive," he corrected. "We're like brothers. So they took the whole thing a little...personally. They think they're helping, but yeah they were being jerks."

“Clearly,” I replied sourly. Annoyed, despite their reasoning behind acting like dicks, that I had to deal with them all evening.

“Anyways, I think your tip was short.” He handed me two twenty dollar bills and I felt like the biggest asshole on the planet. The guy I had treated like garbage was apologizing for his friends behavior in revenge and then came back to make sure I got my full tip. 

“I can’t take your money,” I sighed, drained of all fight.

“You’re not _ taking _ it,” he insisted. “You provided a service and it’s owed to you.”

“Keep it and we’ll call it even.” Even I knew it was a bad deal. Forty dollars for being tricked and virally humiliated? But I had nothing else to offer. 

He didn’t answer, but didn’t press the money any further when I refused to take it.

“I can’t wait to get out of here,” I muttered, wiping down the table.

“Off soon?”

“I was off thirty minutes ago.”

He looked apologetic again, which only made me feel worse and I pushed my long hair back into a ponytail, feeling stupid for thinking taking it down would help the evening any. 

“Have a good night, Peeta.”

I finished cleaning their massive mess, gathered up my purse and umbrella and clocked out a little after midnight. The bar scene was still going strong as I weaved out the front door and down the busy District, packed with party goers celebrating Homecoming. Some of the girls probably weren’t that far away. 

Headlights illuminated the path in front of me as a truck rolled to a near stop, inching in time with my steps. The uneasy feeling that settled over me each time I walked home in the dark increased, and I tried to ignore it, staring ahead at the pavement.

“Katniss.”

I pulled my headphones out at the sound of Peeta’s voice. He was in a black truck, arm hanging out the open window as he regarded me, eyes concerned.

“Where are your friends?”

“Are you stalking me?”

It was a joke, but he looked embarrassed nonetheless. He was so easy to embarrass.

“I was driving home and saw you.”

“It’s quicker to walk than take the bus,” I said, ignoring his question as to where my friends were and answering the one he was actually asking; _ why are you walking alone? _

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“You and I both know you don’t want to do that.”

“I...I can’t leave knowing you’re walking home alone,” he answered sheepishly, seeming at war with himself. “I’d sleep much better if you just let me bring you home.”

“Why?” I asked. 

“I’ve heard too many stories with bad endings that start with girls walking alone at night.”

“What do you care if I get assaulted?” I was being a jerk, but _ ugh _ I was in such a bad mood. I just wanted to be alone, no matter how tempting the offer to ride with Peeta was. 

“That’s not funny.” His voice was stern; the most I’d heard since meeting him. It almost demanded that I took him seriously.

I was sure there was at least a small part of him that took enjoyment in his friends revenge tonight. Even if he didn’t want to admit it. He was just so stupidly nice. The type of person that would save a swarm of bees from a falling tree, or something. This kindness wasn’t about me personally. He probably believed in karma and would feel personally responsible on some level if he drove by and then something happened to me.

It didn’t stop my stomach from doing ridiculous somersaults as I climbed up into his truck, though. Obviously, he didn’t _ completely _ hate me.

The radio played softly in the background, mild heat through the vents making the atmosphere warm and inviting. His truck was clean, free from clutter or garbage. An air freshener hung over the rear view mirror, swaying as we drove.

“Do you know where you’re going?” I asked, quietly. 

"Yes.” A brief pause. “Why didn't one of your friends come to pick you up?"

"It's Friday night. They're all out."

"Aren't you going out now, too?"

"No."

He remained silent.

"I'm on probation. I probably should have mentioned that."

"It's not my business."

"I just want you to know that the entire chapter of Theta aren't complete asses.” _ Just three of us. _“A lot of the girls were pretty mad when they found out what we did, actually. Hence the probation. Glimmer was kicked out."

I was rambling and this one sided conversation was killing me.

"Just...thought you should know."

More silence. _ Painful. _

"Why _ did _ you...do what you did?" he asked. He stared at the road ahead, gripping and re-gripping the steering wheel. Nervous.

It took a lot for him to ask. He deserved the truth.

"Money," I replied, feeling dirty as the word hung in the air.

"They offered you money?" he asked, clarifying. "To kiss me?"

"No. To bring you to the party. The kiss...that wasn't part of the deal. It just happened."

I hoped that would make him feel better, that I wasn’t using him the entire night and some of the feelings were real. That I had no idea Glimmer was going to come barging in with her phone pointed at us. Peeta only seemed to be thinking harder with the admission though, his eyebrows furrowed in contemplation, thick muscular arms tense as he made a quick turn. 

"How much?"

"Not enough," I tried to joke, but it fell flat. "A hundred and fifty dollars."

I was disgusting. 

"I'm going to pay you back for the dinner. Really. I didn't mean for you to take me out. It's just that you asked and then...I didn't want to say no, because I was having a good time with you."

"You must think I'm an idiot," he imagined, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck.

"I don't. I really don't. The only idiot in this car is me."

"...If you don’t mind me asking, what did you need the money for? Were they not giving you enough shifts at Sae's?"

“They were...” He waited. “I don’t know how to explain without coming across as a bigger bitch than I already have.”

“It’s okay,” he promised, his tone almost reassuring which was absolutely ridiculous given the circumstances.

I inhaled deeply, running my hands along the fabric of my jeans nervously before continuing.

“I’m the only girl in my sorority who works an actual job and definitely the only one who struggles financially. They don’t understand the pressure, because it’s not something they think about. It’s nothing for them to drop one hundred dollars on a party...but I was drowning. We had fees coming up and I couldn’t pay them. Before I knew it, Glimmer and Clove were offering to cover for me but only if...”

“I see,” he finished. 

“I’m sorry.” My voice was nothing but a whisper. “If I could go back and undo it, I would. I should have never involved you. But by the time I started getting to know you, it was too late.” 

“I...could have helped you out, if you had told me the truth,” he confessed, and his words pulled me up short. 

“You didn’t even know me.” 

We were sitting in front of Theta now; the house ghostly quiet with most of its inhabitants missing. He put the car into park before turning to regard me. He was so big, dwarfing even the large truck.

“I knew you better than I do now.”

My heart throbbed painfully in my chest.

“I can’t argue that,” I murmured. “Uh, thanks for the ride.” 

“You’re welcome.”

“Bye, Peeta.”

He waited until I had the front door open to drive away, and I realized I forgot to wish him luck on the game tomorrow. Not that it mattered. Not that having my well wishes would make them play any better.

I just hoped they didn’t lose. It was hard enough being the scapegoat for their previous failure. If they lost Homecoming, I would never hear the end of it.

Exhausted, I traipsed upstairs to bed on throbbing feet and fell down onto my mattress before I could even remove my shoes. I kicked them off into the center of the rug and took a deep breath, relaxing.

When I went to blindly search for my cell phone in my purse, my eyebrows furrowed as I touched something that felt like crumpled paper. Sitting up, I pulled the bag onto my lap and peered inside.

Right on top, clear as day, were the two twenty dollar bills Peeta had tried giving me earlier.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just your weekly dose of angst. 
> 
> I hope everyone had a nice holiday, however you chose to spend it! Thanks for reading :)


	6. October 16-20

* * *

_Tryin' open up a little more_

_sorry if my heart's a little slow._

-Lizzo

* * *

Homecoming was a wild success. 

A weekend off after their first loss of the season had the Nightlocks ready for a fight to defend their home turf against rival Minnesota Gophers. The team name made me snicker whenever anyone said it. _ The Gophers. _ I imagined the team of big, powerful football players assembling the field, trying to appear ferocious and being called _ the Gophers. _

I supposed it wasn’t much worse than being named after a berry. At least Nightlocks were poisonous, though. 

I sat on my bed, shamelessly scrolling through photos on their official Instagram account. Just because probation banned me from posting on social media didn’t mean it could keep me from stalking. It was a constant, mortifying reminder that I’d become just the slightest bit obsessed when the account popped up first in my suggestions. 

The newests posts from Homecoming were taken inside Capitol Stadium. Fans decked out to ridiculous lengths in Nightlock attire in the stands and professional sideline shots of the action. There was a video of the team celebrating after the victory. They slapped the hands of fans they passed through the tunnel off the field and huddled together in a large and boisterous group hug in their luxurious locker room.

They weren’t the only ones celebrating the win. The parties had lasted straight through the weekend into Monday with everyone on campus participating. 

Well, _ most _everyone.

I still got to celebrate in my own sense, though. 

My shift at Sae’s was during the game, because nearly everyone else had put requests in to have it off. With so many people at Capitol Stadium, I’d expected the restaurant to be half dead. Instead, I was shocked to find it was standing room only. Haymitch projected the game against one of the walls so everyone could see and I prayed to the football gods that the Nightlock’s won.

When they did, everyone in the bar was so riled up with excitement that I was able to fly under the radar for the remainder of the day. As my shift ended, I physically leaned against the bar, drained of energy but full of deep relief that they hadn’t lost. 

Then went home and had a pint of ice-cream with Netflix cued up.

Truly, these were my wildest college days.

I kept scrolling through the posts and clicked on a photo set taken last Friday afternoon of team members visiting children at the university hospital.

I didn’t know they did that. 

The first picture in the series was of Finnick Odair at the bedside of a young teenage boy. He had tubes coming out from the top of his gown and more in the veins of his hands, but forced a smile and a thumbs up for the photo. Finnick matched the pose, holding the boys other hand gently and a pair of signed Nike sneakers sat on his lap above the covers. 

More photos followed in it’s likeness of varying Nightlocks in both posed and candid photos around the pediatric ward. I stopped on the seventh photo in the set and my heart lurched involuntarily. It was Peeta, with a petite girl in his arms. She couldn’t be more than three or four. Her hairless head was decorated with a Nightlocks styled headband and a breathing cannula was inserted into her nose.

I might’ve not realized it was Peeta if it weren’t for his distinguishable bulk and blonde curls. He had on a yellow hospital gown and mask that covered most of his face. Still, it was apparent from the crinkle in his glass blue eyes that he was smiling beyond it. 

The little girl gripped Peeta’s broad neck like a lifeline in one of her small hands, a new teddy bear in the other. Entirely comfortable in his embrace. 

He was tagged in the photo and I wasn’t sure why it only just occurred to me in that moment that he would have an Instagram account. My finger lingered over his highlighted name, and then I clicked it.

His profile photo wasn’t of himself, but the field at Capitol Stadium. The bio beneath the photo kept simple.

_ Peeta Mellark, 21 _

_ Junior @uofpanem _

_ Panem Nightlocks Football _

A little lock box icon blocked any other personal information from viewing.

Private.

I wondered if his account had always been marked private, or if he’d changed it due to the recent events.

“Busy?”

I snapped my phone shut, guiltily, and sprang up to a sitting position on the bed. Clove quirked an eyebrow at me and her smile increased.

“Whatcha doin?”

“Nothing. I’m not busy, why?”

“Cashmere needs a few volunteers to run to the farmers market tomorrow morning to pick up the pumpkins. I’m desperate to get out of this house--even if it’s just to go to a lame farmers market at seven in the morning.”

“Seven?” I groaned. What was with all these girls trying to get in the way of my sleeping? I fought the urge to decline, because she looked so genuinely excited about going to get these pumpkins it was sad. Sighing inwardly, I agreed. 

“You owe me a hot chocolate, though.”

“That’s fair.”

I leaned down to grab my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. My first class didn’t begin for another hour and a half, but I had an errand to run first and lecture was clear on the other side of campus. 

The money Peeta had snuck into my purse last weekend was burning a hole into my desk drawer, where it had sat while I figured out what to do with it.

I’d nearly texted him to insist he took it back, but with the way things had been going, I figured it would only end up in a stubborn back and forth that would get me nowhere. I didn’t want to come across as ungrateful, it was a really nice of him to make sure I got my full tip. Working at a college bar, I was more than used to being shorted. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it happening again, especially given the group.

But, taking his money felt wrong. The more I thought about it, the more I just wanted it gone. 

In what was possibly one of my more creepier moments, I asked Delly where Peeta lived on campus so that I could slip it under his door and give it back without the confrontation. She looked at me like I had three heads with the explanation, but gave the address up simply enough.

He lived in an apartment just a few blocks down from greek row. A comfortable ten minute walk and I was standing on his doorstep with a troubled frown. 

The main door was locked with a series of doorbells lining the side of the building in order to be buzzed inside. 

There was no way in hell I was ringing the doorbell. 

I glanced down at my watch. 8:15am. Chances were, he was gone to practice anyways and the apartment was empty, but still I wasn’t willing to risk it. That would be a whole lot of explaining I wasn’t looking to do in person. 

After a minute of debating, the door opened on its own and someone passed through quickly. They held it open for me in a brief show of politeness before disappearing hastily towards the main buildings on campus, and I grabbed a hold of it before slipping inside.

I followed the arrows pointing upwards and took the stairs to the second floor. The building was quiet, with its patrons gone already or still sleeping. I crept down the hallway to the corner apartment labeled _ 15 _.

I shrugged my backpack off one of my shoulders and dug inside for the envelope of cash I’d tucked into it and a pen. Leaning against the door frame, I quickly scribbled _ Peeta Mellark _ on it and smoothed out the wrinkles before bending down to slip it beneath the door.

Just as it slid through the crack, the door opened, and I nearly fell over onto my ass with the suddenness.

“Oh!” a surprised voice gasped. 

My glance upwards was met with long, bare, _ feminine _ legs. 

The blonde who stood in the doorway regarded me with a mixture of bewilderment and intrigue. Her hair was piled up into a high ponytail on her head and she hid freckles beneath thick framed glasses.

The large sweater she wore dipped just below her butt and slid off one of her pale shoulders to expose it. That, and the thick wool socks on her feet were all she wore. She looked entirely too at home inside of the apartment. 

“Sorry,” she apologized with light laughter and pressed the glasses up higher on her face. “I heard rustling outside the door…”

“It’s fine. I’m sorry.” I grabbed the envelope, rising up to my full height. She eyed it curiously, noting the writing before pointing a perfectly manicured finger towards it.

“That for Peeta?”

“Yeah, I…”

“He’s not here right now, but I can give it to him.”

_ Of course she could. _

My face was on fire. I felt like the dumbest person on the planet lingering outside of his door like a stalker while his hook-up caught me red handed. I passed her the envelope quickly, unable to make eye contact.

“Who should I say it’s from?”

“He’ll know,” I muttered, already turning around to flee. “Thanks. Bye.”

“Oh, okay. Bye.”

I practically ran out of the apartment building, not stopping to even glance back until I was several blocks away.

* * *

**Me (12:52pm): **I have a confession.

_ Peeta (12:54pm): _Oh?

**Me (12:56pm): **Yeah. I did something weird. 

_ Peeta (12:56pm): _Lol, are you going to tell me?

**Me (12:57pm): **Ugh, I’d really rather not. But okay...

_ Peeta (1:00pm): _Okay, lol.

_ Peeta (1:06pm): _Katniss?

**Me (1:15pm): **I went by your apartment this morning. Nevermind how I knew it was yours, but I wanted to return the money you gave me last week. Thank you by the way...but it was totally unnecessary. Anyway, I went to slip it underneath your door and...you had company…

_ Peeta (1:16pm): _I did?

**Me (1:17pm): **Blonde. Barely clothed. She said she could give it to you, so I assumed you would be seeing each other later.

_ Peeta (1:18pm): _Lol

**Me (1:18pm): **??

_ Peeta (1:20pm): _That was Madge. Gale’s girlfriend. 

**Me (1:21pm): **Oh. I thought maybe…

_ Peeta (1:22pm): _No, lol.

_ Peeta (1:23pm): _ So...how _ did _ you get my address? Lol. 

* * *

It was tradition that every fall Theta Kappa Phi and Lambda Sigma teamed up to host the annual Pumpkin Patch Bash; a party that lasted the whole day and into the evening every third Saturday in October. 

There were carnival style games, crafts, food and drinks for all ages, including children of staff, students and alumni who were welcomed to attend during the day as well. 

After sundown, there was a strict eighteen and up admissions rule. The atmosphere was complete with music, even more games, food and _ adult _ drinks for those of age. The cost of admission for either party and the games played were all collected and donated to the campus hospital and their medical research programs. It was by far the biggest turnout we received each year for any of our socials.

In truth, Theta did most of the preparation for the event. We established a bulk of the games and activities, bought the decorations, prizes and created the menu. But, there was a ridiculous--and ancient, by the way-- rule dating back to the late 1800s that sororities were not allowed to host parties with alcohol on the premises of their houses. Fraternities had free reign; there were no rules on alcohol consumption or partying on site, which was likely why they were in trouble far more than us. No matter how sexist the rule, in order to draw a bigger crowd and accomplish our goal of raising $5000, we needed their help.

Lambda Sigma housed some of our best friends, anyways. The work hardly felt like that when we all got together to set everything up and prepare for the festivities. Festivities that I was finally allowed to partake in, seeing as it was a club social event and not technically a _ party. _

Cashmere had t-shirts made for us all to wear, light pink with our greek letters colored orange in the center of a pumpkin over our right breast. The shirt was a couple sizes too large on me and Clove came up to tie a knot in the side of it. The modification flashed a hint of my flat stomach when I moved the right way, a look she insisted was _ good. _

“Okay ladies, ten minutes until I’d like everyone downstairs in the dining room,” Cashmere called from hallway for us all to hear.

Breakfast was all laid out along the back wall of the dining room--fresh fruit and waffles, eggs, toast and oatmeal. I grabbed a piece of whole wheat and some fruit before sitting down next to Clove as the room began to fill in.

“Everyone have something to eat?” Cashmere asked, looking around the room as it grew more quiet. “Great. So...happy fourth annual Pumpkin Patch Bash, ladies!” 

The resounding cheers were deafening and Cashmere grinned, giving us a round of applause in return.

“It has been my honor to have been a co-founder of this truly inspiring fundraiser. Back when I was just a freshman, my Big was a nursing student and the things she experienced and went through first hand played an instrumental role in upstarting this fundraiser. To date, it is our highest selling social with a grand total donation of $3500 last year to the campus hospital and medical research center!”

We clapped politely and Cashmere beamed, completely in her wheelhouse.

“Sadly, this is my last year helping to host PPB.” She paused, her breath shaky as her eyes glistened with forming tears. “You know, everyone tells you about how awesome and fun senior year is, but no one warns you how heartbreaking every big event is.”

Delly stood up next to Cashmere, looping an arm around her waist and pulling her in for a hug as she fought to find composure.

“Anywho,” she said, fanning away her tears with choked laughter. “This isn’t a sad day. This is one of the best days! It’s one that I hope to share with you all as an alumni in the years to come, and one I hope to share with my kids someday, so long as you girls keep it alive.”

“Yes, Cashmere!” Maysilee chimed in, enthusiastically. 

“Okay, but, lets focus on today!” Cashmere focused, clapping her hands. “This years goal, as set out in the newsletter is to raise _ five thousand dollars _ for the medical center. Anything over that is fantastic! Anything under…” she made a face. “Let’s keep it positive and not even think about not hitting our goal!”

“Remember ladies that while we’re at the Lambda Sigma house we are representing Theta Kappa Phi even more than normal,” Cashmere added in. “We want to make sure we’re smiling, happy, _ inclusive,” _I felt my cheeks flush. “Please don’t forget to talk up the medical center and all the fantastic things it does for us not only on campus but in terms of important research. It’s why we’re all here.”

“After sundown, if you’re on admission duty direct guests over twenty-one to partake in our ‘shot entrance fee.’ It’s fun and gets everyone in the party and giving mood! Make sure everyone under twenty-one gets a wristband before entering the frat house, got it?” 

We nodded.

“Assignments!”

I was put on a team with Clove, Delly and Maysilee manning the pumpkin carving and sunflower seed art station. Possibly the tamest craft station of the entire affair, something I was sure had been done purposely. A party like this made it all too easy to break the _ no boys _ rule of probation. 

I glanced over my shoulder, down towards the pier where all of the carnival games and the makeshift dance floor were set up. Despite it only being mid-day, it was packed with people laughing and having fun. 

Our booth was not the most eventful. We were clear across the yard, practically in our own corner of the world, next to the small hay bail maze meant for kids under seven. I shook out my hand and massaged it to keep from cramping after carving what felt like my hundredth pumpkin face. 

Despite basically being a glorified babysitter, it wasn’t the worst job in the world. Carving pumpkins reminded me of when I was younger, back home in Pittsburgh where fall was often short but beautiful. Prim and I both loved Halloween and looked forward to all of the activities surrounding the month. 

“Ugh, a year ago my biggest job was to hand out glowsticks and dance with hot dudes,” Clove groaned miserably, uncaring about the child sitting right in her lap. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

“Oh, stop it,” Delly chuckled, creating turkey drawings out of the two little boys hands that sat on either side of her. “You see guys all of the time. It’s fun to be with the children.”

I had to agree. It was a refreshing wave of relief to not have to worry about judgemental stares or whispers among these tiny humans. They just plopped down on your lap and wanted you to carve a pumpkin or paint one on their cheek. 

With dusk approaching, the eighteen and up party would be starting soon. That meant I’d be given a new task shortly after clean up of our station, though I highly doubted it would be anything _ too _ fun that could lead down the road of trouble. I’d probably be on snack refills or ID check at the door. Standing would be a welcome change from sitting on a picnic bench all day, though. 

Without the sun as high in the sky, the temperatures were dropping and the added chill from the wind caused my skin to pebble.

Just as I was finishing my last pumpkin, and the little peanut in my arms was twisting around to hug me goodbye, Cashmere appeared, placing a hand on both mine and Clove’s shoulders.

“Okay ladies, we are just about ready for the dunking booth.”

We exchanged a confused look. Delly stared down at the colored pencils and markers she busied herself with collecting. 

“Do you need help setting it up?” I asked slowly, trying to read her mind. Cashmere laughed, giving me a pat before releasing the both of us.

“No, crazy. The boys are taking care of that. I need you two to work it.”

It shouldn’t have surprised me. Each year there is a solid debate about who the unlucky winners of the dunk booth would be. In summer, when the sun shone brightly and the weather was hot, the booth would be a little annoying at worst. But in October, in _ Wisconsin, _when the sun was due to set shortly, a dunk tank was torture.

It was also where a huge part of our donations came from. Horny, drunk college dudes loved watching us fall into a vat of water clad in only bikinis. The water itself was comfortable, due to a circulating pump the fraternity had hooked up to it. It was sitting outside soaking wet on a wooden peg that made the whole thing mostly unbearable. 

But with Clove and I on probation, it hardly came as a surprise that we’d be chosen for the task. Cashmere fully knew we had little wiggle room to complain about the bitch jobs. We smiled tightly at her and headed for the bathroom to change.

“Make sure you bring out the towels! And only thirty minute intervals. Drink hot chocolate,” Cashmere called out as we walked away. Great, _ now _ she was concerned.

“She’s serious?” Clove asked when she was out of ear shot. I only shrugged my shoulders with a sigh.

Cashmere had to have known all along who would be given the dunking booth task, because when we got inside, bathing suits were waiting for us in a duffle, along with two towels.

“What the hell is this?” Clove asked, holding up the pink bikini with the words _ Theta Kappa _printed on the ass. 

Dear god.

I slipped on the ridiculous garment, unable to help but think that it was exactly what Cashmere wanted for the evening. The ensemble screamed _ fun _ and _ look at me. _

The top was plunging; deep enough to accentuate even my small chest. Clove tightened the halter straps, perking hers up more before checking herself out in the mirror. When she caught my eye, she gave a defensive look.

“What? If I’m going to work this degrading booth, I’m going to at least feel my best.” 

She wasn’t wrong.

I followed closely behind Clove back down the to the pier, ignoring the low whistles and comments we received along the way. 

Marvel gave me an appreciative look up and down as I approached the booth, rubbing my arms together as the cold air hit my exposed skin. 

“You look good, Everdeen.” He whistled and I rolled my eyes, tossing the towel Cashmere brought us on the ground near to where he stood. 

“Drew the short straw I see?”

“Made a dumb bet and still paying for it.”

He laughed, coming up behind me to place guiding hands on my hips as I climbed the ladder. I maneuvered myself to be sitting on the small platform, just above the tank, with my toes brushing the warm waters surface.

“Hey, what are you doing after this?” he asked, leaning against the pool with his face pressed to the netting that kept me from getting pelted by a stray ball. His lips turned up in a wicked smirk, green eyes gleaming with promise. “Wanna hang?”

“Yeah, I can’t,” I pretended to pout. “That pesky probation rule: no boys.”

It wouldn’t do any good trying to explain to him that my mind only wandered to one boy these days, anyways. Pitiful. _ Truly pitiful. _

“Shame,” he sighed, backing up from the pool and back towards the entry of the booth. “Ready to get dunked?”

“Not in partic--” I gasped, unprepared for the seat to give out from beneath me and send me careening into the water. The splash was loud, the laughter louder and by the time I popped up to the surface a crowd had already begun to form.

“Marvel!” I sputtered, pulling my soaked hair back from my face to properly glare at him. He looked pleased as hell, laughing, with one hand still resting on the button.

“What? Now you know what to expect, it won’t be so bad.”

“Screw you,” I said, only half joking, swatting his hands away from my hips as he went to help me back onto the platform. 

“Alright, who’s next? You saw how fun that was. Five dollars for three shots at a Kardashian. Come on, you can’t tell me that you haven’t thought about dunking a Theta at least _ once.” _

“You are such an asshole,” I mumbled under my breath, clenching my teeth as I smiled to keep them from shivering. I swayed to the beat of the music coming from uphill, trying to keep in mind the rules from this morning.

_ Smiling. Happy. Inclusive. _

“I’ll try!” 

I didn’t know the enthusiastic girl who approached, but she was clad in a Nightlocks basketball jersey; the cheap kind you can buy at the student bookstore, which told me she was a jock chaser. Of course she wanted to show off and try to dunk me.

She gave Marvel a five and dramatically handed her beer to one of her friends before clasping the first bean bag in her hand.

She threw it with a resounding grunt and I watched as it landed nowhere near the target. Relaxing, I crossed my legs over each other and smiled. 

“You have to actually hit the target to dunk her.” The strong voice belonged to the guy pushing himself past people to the front of the line. He was a big dude; tall and imposing. Demanding attention. 

If I had to bet, by the way her eyes turned to pure goop at his presence, he was an athlete. Probably a basketball player. Definitely not football. I’d scrolled through the team roster a tragic number of times and could recognize every face on the team by now.

“Help me,” she whined, pressing her ass back against his front.

“You can’t get help,” I called out. _ Little bitch. _Just take your feeble shots and move on.

“I think she just did,” Big Dude shot back, smirking before helping her wind up her arm and aim the bean bag. He let go of her, telling her to toss it, and when she did, she totally dunked me.

This happened four more times over the course of my first shift before Clove and I swapped and I was able to get warm for a few glorious minutes. 

Clove--who was having way more fun at the booth than I had--drew a massive crowd of people over as she playfully taunted and flirted with participants and cheered when they hit their shot. She was much better at the whole thing than I was. I was trying, _ really _. But by round three, I was cold, wet and pruny and everyone around me was at least some level of intoxicated while I sat stone cold sober.

Cashmere could’ve at least bent the drinking rule a little tonight.

I tried to remain positive, this was our last round before packing up so even though I was still wet and the breeze did nothing to squelch the coldness that cut through to my bones, I smiled and tried to look like I was having a good time the way I knew I was supposed to. 

A shiver wracked my body before I could still it as my next pursuer missed hit after hit. I was almost hoping to be dunked at this point, wanting the brief relief into the warm water. 

If I believed in karma, I’d say God saw an opportunity and took it, because right as my teeth began to chatter helplessly, a group from the football team walked by, Peeta in tow.

I sat up straighter on instinct, pushing my damp hair behind my ears and trying to look anywhere but directly at him. 

I could feel him staring though. I wasn’t hard to miss. Not with some frat guy calling out into a megaphone and a giant vat of water right below me. 

It wasn’t just other guys from his team that he was with. There were girls too--of course. That didn’t surprise me because almost always when there were football players running loose, girls weren’t far behind. The girl from Peeta’s apartment the other day was there, too. Gale’s girlfriend, he had told me, but I forgot her name. 

She looked different now that she wasn’t freshly fucked and sipping coffee from one of their mugs. Her hair was down in wispy pieces, pulled back by a pearly headband and she wasn’t wearing her glasses.

At a gust of wind, her shoulders hunched beneath her thin jacket and Gale leaned in to wrap an arm around her. When she looked up and caught my gaze, she said something that made Peeta’s cheeks flush.

I tried to appear confident despite sitting there in a bikini in fifty degree weather while the one guy I couldn’t get off my mind stood mere feet away, but it was no use when our eyes locked.

Some of his friends noticed me, as well. Despite their clear amusement, it was obvious they liked what they saw. For a minute, it seemed like they debated playing; warring between the desire to dunk me on behalf of their friend and not wanting to give me the time of day. I let out a held breath when it looked like they would pass by all together, but then Peeta looped back.

I watched curiously as he started talking with Marvel. Pulled his wallet out. Marvel glanced over at me, eyes wide before turning back to Peeta. He handed him cash and Marvel lost his mind.

“Holy shit,” he exclaimed, right into the mega phone. Peeta didn’t flinch. “We got ourselves a philanthropist!” 

The people nearby cheered, despite not having a clue what was going on and then Marvel lifted the entire bucket of bean bags up onto the table and stepped back.

“Have at it, my dude.”

Betrayal stung. He bought the entire _ bucket? _ He hadn’t struck me as the revengeful type, but it appeared he had just been biding his time with all that _ it’s okay, I forgive you _bull. He’d waited and then he’d found his opening. 

His football buddies and the girls that clung to them cheered him on vigorously from the sidelines, eager for the action. 

Peeta walked around the booth, over towards me and I stiffened as he came right up to the side of the cage. 

“Hey,” I greeted, like we had casually run into each other on campus.

“Hey.”

“Come to warn me that you’re about to pelt me with a bucket worth of bean bags?” I asked, laughing nervously as my eyes strayed back to the bucket.

“No, I came to tell you that you can get down.” 

_ Get down? _

“Really?”

“If you want.” 

I nodded, and he extended a thick arm up to help me balance as I turned around on the peg. Dazed, I took hold of his hand, gripping it tightly as I stood up on the platform. When I got to the ladder, he let go, but stood close in case I needed spotting.

“Thanks,” I whispered, ignoring the disappointed protests surrounding us. I wrapped my arms around my torso, suddenly self conscious.

“No problem. Do you, uh, have a towel or a blanket?” he asked, looking around the ground for one. 

“I left it inside…” _ So dumb. _

“Here.” He shrugged out of his sweatshirt, pulling the shirt he wore underneath it up a little with it and revealing a hint of his stomach. Quickly, he adjusted and then handed the sweatshirt to me. 

I pulled it over my head wordlessly, the heat from his body still clinging to the inside of it. It was big on me, going almost to my knees with the sleeves far longer than my arms. He gave me an apologetic look as he saw me rolling the material up to expose my hands.

“Sorry. It’s huge.”

“It’s comfortable,” I grinned, unable to help it. Peeta smiled, the action almost genuine again, before he stuffed his hands in his pockets and took a step backwards, away from me.

Towards his group. _ Right. _

“I’ll come find you after I change?” I asked, and seeing his confusion quickly added, “to return this.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he told me, the words sincere and kind but I couldn’t help feeling like it was because he didn’t want me to end up hanging out with him and his friends. They were probably pissed as it was that he gave me his jacket. “You can give it back to me another time just...go and get warm. It’s freezing out here.”

Another time? _ Another time. _ The promise hung in my mind with the idea that maybe, _ probably, _he wanted to see me again. I mean he’d have to, right? If he wanted it back…

“Okay,” I agreed. 

“I’ve uh, gotta get going,” he said, motioning behind him with a tip of his head. I waved, watching him walk away to rejoin them and deeply inhaled, inadvertently gaining a big whiff of his scent from the material.

It smelled heavenly. 

I was fucked. 

* * *

** Me (8:15am):** Hey, thanks again for the sweatshirt last night and...whatever you did to get Marvel to let me down, lol. 

_ Peeta (8:26am): _It was no problem.

** Me (8:27am):** Any plans for the day? 

_ Peeta (8:30am): _Just going for a jog on the bike path. 

** Me (8:31am): **Now? 

_ Peeta (8:31am): _Soon, lol.

**Me (8:32am):** Need company?

_ Peeta (8:33am): _You run?

**Me (8:33am):** I can, yeah, lol.

_ Peeta (8:34am): _Right, lol. Duh. Um, sure. 

**Me (8:35am): **Meet you in twenty?

It was the quickest I’d gotten ready and was out the door in a long time. I pulled my hair back into a simple braid and donned my sneakers before bounding down the stairs of the sorority house. 

It was still quiet with a large majority of the girls sound asleep after the busy and late night. A few were gathered downstairs in the sunroom, stretching in preparation for a pilates class. Of those included Delly, who noticed me and gave a look of confusion.

“I’m going for a jog.” I slipped a sweatshirt on over my head. Not Peeta’s. I wasn’t ready to give it back, yet.

“A jog?” Delly’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “Okay, have fun I guess.”

“See you in a bit.”

Peeta was already there and waiting at the foot of the path for me when I arrived. His breath swirled in the cold morning air and the tip of his nose was pink. When he saw me, he smiled tight-lipped in greeting.

“Morning,” I panted, slowing down to a stop beside him. 

“I was surprised you were awake so early,” he said as we stretched and then began down the gravel pathway. 

“It’s a curse. My body doesn’t remember what sleeping in feels like.”

“I understand,” he laughed, matching my pace in a steady trot. “I’m the same way.”

The path was outlined by trees, but with autumn in full bloom, many of the leaves had fallen. The bare trees made the lake on the other side of the path more visible. Morning’s light reflected on the water and sparkled as the sun peeked over the horizon.

“Do you jog every Sunday?” 

He nodded. “When the weather permits.”

“Does everyone on the team work out seven days a week?” 

“Most do. But, we only have required workouts five days a week. I guess six if you count game day.”

“You’re far stricter than me,” I teased. “Seven days...that’s a lot.”

“I know it doesn’t look like it,” he said, jest clear in his tone in an attempt to make light of his insecurities before I could. I knew the tactic well.

“Did you have fun last night?” 

“It wasn’t bad. Your sorority organized that?”

I nodded. 

“We volunteer at the hospital a few times a month. A group of us were just there last weekend. It’s...really cool that the profits from last night went to the research center.”

“Our chapter president is pretty passionate about give-back projects. She organized it all. I just sat in a dunk tank barely clothed, but every contribution counts, so she tells us.”

He laughed, barely breaking a sweat despite the fact that we’d been jogging for several minutes. Even my breaths were coming a little heavier, but Peeta kept a steady breathing rate, his stamina commendable.

“I’m guessing you didn’t volunteer for the honor?”

“Yeah, no. A joy of probation. Couldn’t really say no.”

I’d lost track of him after I went inside Lambda to change. I had no idea how much money was exchanged between Peeta and Marvel, but whatever the amount it had been enough to keep me out of the tank for the rest of the evening. And enough that Cashmere had come up and kissed me right on the lips, thanking me for all the _ hard work _ I put in for the evening.

So, she had no clue, then.

“I thought you didn’t go out much.” The words came out far more accusatory than intended, and immediately I amended them. “Not that I’m complaining. You saved me last night. Just curious.”

“I don’t really, normally,” he agreed. “It was coach’s idea to get out more.”

“Team building?” I guessed.

“Something like that,” he muttered, and remained quiet for a moment, working through his next words. “He thinks I’m depressed--which I’m not, by the way. But there’s no point in arguing it with him because it just…”

“Makes it worse?” I guessed and he nodded.

“Yeah. _ Thou protest too much _, and all.” He sighed. “So, he’s been on us all about doing things together.”

“Why does he think you’re depressed?” When he hesitated to answer, I asked, “Because of the party?”

“I didn’t go out much before then, anyways,” he spoke quietly. “It’s no different.”

I slowed to a walk, because it was too important of a conversation to have to worry about panting through. Peeta noticed that my stride broke and slowed to a stop until I caught up. We walked together on the otherwise silent path, kicking gravel up with our toes.

“It’s been shitty. Hasn’t it?” I all but whispered. My arms wrapped around myself protectively, as if they could provide a shield from the conversation.

“It’s had its moments,” he said, the color on his cheeks either from the cold or the subject, I couldn’t tell. 

“Can I ask you a question?” I stared out at the lake, not brave enough to meet his gaze yet. My heart leapt in my chest, a mess of nerves as I waited for his reply.

“Yeah.”

“Why weren’t you mad?” Finally I looked, and his eyes bored into mine. “After everything that happened, you had every right to be upset. To hate me. Wh--why don’t you hate me?”

_ I _ hated me for what I had done, the feelings of disgust only intensified by Peeta’s refusal to share in them.

A beat passed and the tension sliced the air as he studied the path ahead.

“I was upset,” he admitted, truthfully. “I was...really embarrassed. But then I thought--”

He stopped and I didn’t speak, patiently waiting for him to collect his thoughts. When the silence stretched, I prompted him.

“You thought…?”

He cleared his throat.

“I’m not a big fan of confrontation,” he confessed. “Off the field, anyway. It kills me the way some people hold onto resentment and let it rule their lives for _ years. _ Sometimes, until they die, even. So, when everything happened, I thought the only thing that could make it worse would be to lash out. Reacting that way would only make me feel like I was just another piece in the game, you know? I would rather just...let things go.”

It was my turn to be silent, because everything I could imagine saying didn’t feel like enough. He was such a poised person; elegant in his words and kind in all of his dealings. It truly astounded me. I kept waiting for the moment when he would snap and give into the temptation to curse me out, but it never came.

“That’s...a really good way of looking at it. Especially because you didn’t deserve it, Peeta. At all.” 

“It’s in the past, now.”

“Yeah, but, I’m sure you’ve gotten crap for it.” Hell knows I had. I completely ignored the notifications I received for things people tagged me in these days, but I wasn’t so oblivious to not have noticed Peeta was being dealt his own share of bullshit, too. 

“There will always be people who keep the joke running longer than necessary. Especially in the locker room, or online. But, my friends for the most part dropped it pretty quickly.”

“Were they mad last night? When you gave me your sweatshirt?” I couldn’t imagine they were happy about it, after the way things went down last weekend at Sae’s. 

“It was none of their business.”

“It must drive them crazy, though. The way you reacted to everything.”

“Some of them, yeah. But, here’s the thing...people were going to make comments no matter how things were handled. If I had flipped out and made a huge deal out of it, people would have said I was being a pansy. But, because I didn’t do anything, I’m still a pansy. So if I’m going to be judged either way, I would rather do things in a way that I respected.” 

All his points were good ones, but they didn’t help the ball of anxiety that had been in my stomach permanently since September. I still felt like a bitch, but I supposed that was a side effect of doing something you regretted. The guilt would plague me for many years, I had a feeling. No matter how things ended between Peeta and I. 

“Since we’re on the subject...how are you doing? I know it hasn’t been easy on your end, either,” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Well no, but I don’t deserve for it to be.”

“It’s almost been a month now. Has anything gotten better?” 

‘Better’ in the sense that the Nightlocks had won their game, so I wasn’t some _ bad omen _ looming on campus anymore. ‘Better’ in that enough time had passed that people had done other stupid shit, like the girl who littered the art hallway with racial slurs to _ make a statement _ and the dude who flashed campus safety and got arrested for indecent exposure. 

My name might’ve not been the first thing out of people’s mouths anymore, but the moment they saw me it was a reminder of the bet.

The ‘top tier sorority bitch’ who thought she was too good for everyone else. The girl who plays cruel jokes on people for fun and couldn’t be trusted. The one dumb enough to mess with a Nightlock of all potential victims, and not just any Nightlock but probably the least deserving one.

“Sometimes, yeah,” I answered. It was the easier thing to say. Peeta wasn’t seeming to buy it and regarded me skeptically as we continued to walk down the path. It had been worth it to slow down our pace for the conversation. It was one I wasn’t sure we would feel comfortable having in a crowded library or cafe. The wooded path was the perfect place for honesty.

“I have a feeling this reputation will precede me until graduation. So only...six hundred something days to go?”

“People will move on,” he assured me. “It’s not any fun to talk about the same things over and over. Eventually, it’ll get boring.”

“I don’t know. All anyone seems to talk about are the _ Nightlocks _ and I messed with that. I swear when you guys lost the game half of the university blamed me.”

He laughed, the sound warm and sweet, but it didn’t stop me from rolling my eyes at him.

“What’s funny?”

“The other half blamed me.”

I smiled, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. 

It was starting to rain; just a light mist, but the promise of more heading this way from the horizon. We both seemed to notice, peering up at the clouds behind us and bright sun ahead. 

“You ready to keep going?”

He nodded. As we began to pick up the pace, I took a chance and reached out to touch his arm. The slightest brush of my fingertips against his bicep warmed my skin and Peeta glanced down at his arm, like the contact still radiated through him too. 

“Hey,” I said, and had to clear my voice. “Thanks.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all have a good week!


	7. October 26-31

* * *

_I think I'm coming alive with you._

-Carly Rae Jepsen 

* * *

Back in August, when game day season passes had gone on sale, a bunch of the girls rushed to order them before they sold out. Not having the desire or finances to shell out two hundred dollars for football, I bought one ticket to the October 26th game for a comparable thirty. 

A lot had changed since August, but since attending a football game didn’t break any probation rules, there was nothing keeping me from attending. 

I stretched out in bed with a tired moan, relaxing into the mattress as I listened to the other girls chatting on the other side of the door.

Delly was up and gone already. It amazed me how early she had to be out of the house for a game that didn’t start until the afternoon. Being on the dance team was a year long commitment for her, starting right back up again in the winter as football died down and basketball began. It took up nearly as much of her time as being in the sorority did, and I honestly had no idea how she juggled it all.

I rolled over onto my back, getting tangled up in the large material of Peeta’s sweatshirt. It was like being wrapped in a cocoon, an added layer of comfort in the otherwise chilly room. 

Despite the fact that I slept in it every night for the last week, it still smelled like him. The scent had even begun to rub off onto my pillow. _ Warm and earthy _like sandalwood and a hint of spice that I couldn’t place blindly, but was frustratingly familiar. 

I inhaled deeply on instinct, embarrassed by the way it made my insides churn but thankful for the lack of audience to witness my odd display. 

I was as excited as I was nervous about the game. I’d seen pictures of Peeta in his uniform, and I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I’d looked up a game or two online...but it was an entirely different feeling to know that in a few short hours, I would get to see the action live.

I’d been to football games before over the years. Unknowingly watched him play, but my motives in going were hardly ever to actually _ watch _ the game. Far more fun had always been the social aspect of things. Drinking and tailgating with my friends, gorging on shitty food during halftime. The comradery of being in an arena full of people all rooting for the same goal and experiencing that same sense of pride no matter the resulting score. 

Today though, I was grossly interested in the action that would take place on the field.

I slipped out of bed, leaving Peeta’s sweatshirt behind, and started to get ready so I wasn’t holding anyone up.

Clove, Maysilee and I were meeting up with Marvel and a few other guys from Lambda before the game. 

We walked the energetic streets of greek row, where every house seemed to be hosting its own pre-game party. On game day, it was socially acceptable to have a beer and bratwurst at nine in the morning. Everything was wildly chaotic: guys spray painting giant red _ ‘P’s’ _on their bare chests, homemade signs declaring the Nightlocks as victors hanging off frat house balconies, a girl being held upside down by her legs to drink from a keg.

The insanity only grew the closer we got to the stadium. It was one of the two games played at Panem that year where ESPN sports anchors, Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith, flew in to do live coverage and interviews at the campus. They’d taken over the courtyard in front of the Justice Building, and a sea of red and navy had accumulated behind the cameras in hopes of getting on television. 

Since kick off wasn’t until two, it gave us plenty of time to wander around all the different tailgates. A few people had lawn games set up around the streets, which did well to keep Clove and I entertained while our friends busied themselves with drinking. After everyone was sufficiently full of alcohol, we grabbed some lunch and then it was time to make our way to the stadium.

As I handed my ticket over to be scanned, I noticed that it was Gale Hawthorne’s menacing face that glared back at me on the paper. His broad arms crossed over his middle, stance wide to show he meant business. Blood red background behind him with PANEM NIGHTLOCKS boasted above him in large block letters. 

The way his piercing eyes bored into me was more than a little unnerving, bringing memories of the night in the restaurant back to mind. I crumpled it up inside my purse, planning on throwing it away as soon as the game ended. 

As the players took to center field, I found myself intensely captivated by the ones in navy and blue. 

I watched intently, analyzing, wondering why certain moves were made and getting anxious when passes didn’t come to fruition the way they were obviously meant to. 

Mostly when offense was on the field.

I tried to target Peeta, but it was a harder task than I’d originally anticipated. The whole offensive line was full of bigger guys who blended into one another. I remembered him saying that he hiked the ball at the start of each play, though. As they assembled, I finally caught sight of him.

Number sixty-two.

He widened his stance, squatting, ball in one hand and the other down on the turf. His feet shifted. Helmet went up, surveying the defense in front of him. Then down to the ball. Then up once more. All in the span of a few seconds. 

He looked good bent over like that.._ . _ real good _ . _ The red pants displayed everything quite nicely, from his thick legs to the nice curve of his ass. _ I’d never noticed how nice of a butt he had. _

I was openly ogling him from my place in the stands. His entire lower body looked strong and powerful out on the field...something his street clothes didn’t show off as well. The jersey broadcasting the last name _ Mellark _ across his wide shoulders fit tightly along his torso, making his size no secret. 

Big. But not _ huge _. Not even the largest guy on the team, I realized a little surprised. Above average, yeah--especially by standard set by athletes of sculpted muscles and deep ‘V’ shaped hips--but not unappealing. 

My eyes drifted to his ass again and I felt the flush all the way down my body.

Definitely not unappealing. 

Guilt crept in my gut, creating a confusing cocktail of emotions within me as I recalled some of the comments I’d witnessed..._ or made... _about him. I wished more than anything that there was a way to take them back permanently. But, life didn’t work that way. 

Our seats were close enough to the field that I could hear his muffled voice through the helmet call out. It was surprisingly strong and rough, an unusual departure from his normally soft spoken self. The men of the offensive line moved like chest pieces at his command. 

Finnick Odair, Nightlock quarterback, looked the picture of perfection standing just behind Peeta. Tall and lean, biceps bulging beneath navy sports bands placed just above his elbow. His face lit up the jumbo screen; dazzling white smile flashing, bronze hair perfectly tousled, impressive stats listed before returning to the live coverage. 

He was saying something also and gestured with the wave of his hand. Just like that, positions changed. 

“What did he say?” I asked, tapping Marvel’s arm. The play had begun and he was focused, not wanting to miss a moment even as I spoke.

“He was just starting the play.” He brushed me off.

“Yeah but it seemed like Pee--I mean, didn’t it seemed like that other one, um, sixty-two, said something first?”

“He assembled the offense,” Marvel explained. “Finnick changed the play.”

“Why?” 

I followed as Finnick threw the ball down field, into the arms of number twenty-one and the crowd went absolutely nuts. 

“He’s the quarterback,” Marvel stated bluntly. “He can. What he says goes.”

“So...it’s a power trip?” I asked, irritation seeping into my tone before I could squash it. 

“No, not necessarily.” Marvel was smirking. “He’s got a better field of vision. Might be able to see things your boy can’t.”

“He’s not my boy,” I muttered, sourly, chalking up the heat I felt on my cheeks to wind burn.

“Who?” Maysilee asked, leaning into me to look between Marvel and I. 

“Peet--” I stopped myself short at Marvel and his buddies amused laughter, folding my arms across my middle.

“Excuse me for trying to learn the rules,” I shot back, defensively. “I mean what is that guy doing?”

Marvel followed where I pointed, downfield, in the complete opposite direction as Peeta and squinted to get a good look.

“Currently? Standing there.”

More snickers.

“Leave her alone,” Maysilee insisted, looping an arm around me in a protective hug. “Let her watch that boy if she wants to. Lord knows half the reason I come is to scope out the eye candy.”

“You girls are pigs,” One of the Lambda guys I didn’t know by name teased, voice filled with pride.“Do I need to hose you down?”

“What I don’t get is why you’d spend your time drooling after those dudes when you’ve got fine as fuck men standing right beside you.”

Maysilee rolled her eyes, stealing the beer bottle straight from his hand and taking a hardy sip.

“Babe, you couldn’t handle me.”

“Let’s go for a ride and test it out.”

I shushed them with a wave of my hand, standing on my tiptoes to watch as the next play started. 

Peeta had the ball between his legs and was up blocking the massive man in front of him in the span of one second. The move was so fast that if you blinked you would miss it altogether. It amazed me that he could move so quick and light on his feet. His biceps clenched as he pushed back against the opposing player with all of his force, successfully keeping him from getting to Finnick.

I watched as the ball was caught just inches from the end zone. The crowd erupted into uncontrolled cheering as a touchdown was scored. I found myself joining in, arms high in the air and lungs filled with adrenaline and excitement.

Music started blaring through the speakers, working to pump up the crowd even further, and the Nightlock offense ran down field to celebrate. Chest bumps and a few slick dance moves occurred before they fled the field, smacking each other with pride. It was fun watching Peeta that way. 

Unguarded.

In his element. 

He didn’t have a clue that I was there. In this crowd of nearly a hundred thousand, I was just another Nightlocks fan there to cheer them on, indistinguishable from all the others. The thought was a thrilling one.

The game was action packed down to the last minute. The score was close, but in the end, Nightlocks won and between this game and last weekend, they were officially back on the path of their solid winning streak. 

The win set the tone for the rest of the day. Getting out of the stadium proved to be challenging, as fans took to the streets in celebration and stopped traffic. 

We lingered, my group of friends drinking casually while I munched on a bag of chips. I had the urge to text Peeta, tell him that he had played well, but fought against it. 

Since our morning jog last Sunday, things had gone from cordial to...dare I say _ friendly _ between the two of us. Texts were exchanged on a semi-regular occurrence and while they were typically short and sweet, I hadn’t been the only one initiating contact. He had even thrown in a couple ‘lol’s’ which made me stupid happy.

But with the game fresh over, he was undoubtedly busy with his team. I didn’t want to come off clingy or worry him that I thought more of our...whatever this was...than what was there.

Bad enough I slept in the guys sweatshirt without his knowledge. 

When we finally managed to make it out of Capitol, we weaved through the crowds to walk back to the sorority house and get ready for _ Fright Night. _

As was tradition at Panem, the Twelfth District turned into one massive party the Saturday before Halloween. It wasn’t even just college goers who came out for the live music, contests, discounted food and drinks and general merriment. It was hyped up across the entire state, sometimes even drawing a crowd beyond that. 

It was decided through a unanimous vote that because it was an actual holiday--not just a random night out to the Frat house--and because Clove and I had both adhered to probation so far, that we should be allowed to go out with the rest of the girls for _ Fright Night. _

“However,” Cashmere interjected, before we could get too excited. “You’re assigned designated girlfriend duties.”

_ Designated Girlfriend Duty: _ Stay sober and make sure your drinking Theta sisters don’t do anything they’ll regret or that will reflect bad on the chapter.

Apparently, the night for which we earned our probation sentences, our designated girlfriends were MIA. 

Duty or no duty, it didn’t matter much to me. I didn’t need alcohol to have a good time, and I had basically been on self-assigned DGD multiple times through the years looking out for Glimmer.

Clove didn’t seem to upset about the restrictions either. She was itching to get out of the Theta house even more than me. I don’t think she’d missed a Thirsty Thursday since she was a freshman; sneaking into bars with upperclassmen and interesting promises if they bought her drinks. 

It was amazing how one month of probation had changed my perspective on going out. At the start of the semester, it was something I had truly dreaded, because while _ fear of missing out _ was real, so was failing.

But now that I was more than caught up with my class work, a night out was a much needed relief from staring at the cramped walls of my bedroom. I actually _ missed it. _

We’d had our Halloween costumes picked out for weeks. Back at our September monthly meeting, we voted for the winning theme that everyone's costumes had to be inspired by: _ Super Heroes. _

Down the hall, in the community bathroom, there was already a sexy Superwoman, “Clark Kent”, Bat-woman and Captain America…

I walked through the threshold, clad in a leather one piece jumper and fishnets. The extremely short shorts left little to the imagination, as did the plunging neckline that hinted at my small cleavage peeking beneath the material.

Octavia had found the outfit while we were out shopping for the occasion, and insisted I buy it. Because of course, there was no one better for the role of _ Cat Woman _ than _ Katniss. _

I pulled at the material uncomfortably. The get up was more scandalous than most anything I’d ever worn publicly by choice, but it was Halloween. The rules were loose even on _ designated girlfriend duty. _

“Alright, I see you ' _ Kat Woman' Everdeen _,” Delly teased, mirroring the three other girls in the room, all bent over towards the mirror in the process of applying makeup. 

“I look okay? Be honest…” I felt a touch ridiculous as I slipped the matching cat ears headband over my head and fiddled with the hair around my shoulders.

“Better than okay, you look _ fire,” _ Octavia chimed in, smacking her lips together as she applied ruby red lipstick.

“I know you’re on DGD tonight, but who’s on _ designated Katniss duty? _The boys will be crawling all over you,” Delly continued, giving me an appreciative up and down. 

She was bolder than even me, clad in a tightly fitted one-piece _ Wonder Woman _ bodysuit, blue and white stars covering her ass before molding into a strapless red top that smoothed over her curves in the sexiest way.

She’d curled her hair into large, full ringlets and slicked it back with the iconic gold headband.

“I don’t think it’s me they’ll be distracted by,” I promised, giving her butt a little smack as I walked up next to her. Inwardly though, I soaked in the praise. Validation made anyone feel confident and their reaction had been what I was looking for. After four long weeks of sweatpants and no makeup Saturday nights, I was ready to go out and look _ good. _

“Is Thresh coming out tonight?” Maysilee asked, question directed towards Delly. 

“I think so.” Despite the fact she was feigning indifference, she couldn’t hide the smile forming on her lips at the mention of Thresh. As of a week and a half ago, they were officially _ back on _and I’d been subjected to many of Delly’s stories and delighted squeals each night since. 

“Girls are going to be on him like white on rice after the win today.”

“I will literally punch a bitch out if they try,” Clove promised, before her eyebrows pinched in thought. A moment later, she added; “Maybe not _ literally, _ but don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye out for jersey chasers.” 

I slid the leather mask that completed my ensemble over my eyes and brought the silk straps behind my head before turning to Delly for her to tie a neat bow. 

“We’re going to have a good time,” Delly promised next to my ear. “I’m glad you’re coming out.”

I was just glad she wasn’t mad at me anymore. We’d had a few heart to hearts since the _ night we no longer speak of _ and I felt like she truly believed me when I explained how sorry I was. How stupid I had been. She had been looking out for me since, helping me with my rigorous class schedule and including me so I didn’t feel isolated; like movie nights, workout classes, post friday class ice cream runs…

It was nice...a weight lifted from my shoulders, really, to hang out with the girls more regularly again. 

Like things were getting back to a semblance of normalcy.

+++

Wisconsin in late October was cold. Not _ a little uncomfortable _cold but temperatures flirting below thirty degrees cold. Wearing a short jumpsuit was not the brightest idea, no matter how good it looked. But I was in good company with nearly all the other girls who walked towards the District huddled together for warmth.

Costumes flooded the streets surrounding campus, ranging from sexy to creepy to totally ridiculous. It was well past 10 o’clock by the time our hord of twenty plus girls had finished getting ready, pre-gamed heavily and made our way down the streets to _ Fright Night. _

The majority decided that the best course of action was to hop from establishment to establishment, getting drinks and food in between to keep warm from the frigid night air. With the wind whipping angrily, making my exposed skin turn pink, I was in little place to argue their logic.

“Some of the guys are in the _Tipsy Cow_,” Delly chirped, glancing down at her phone. “It’s not too far from here.”

_ The guys _ she referred to I could only assume included Thresh. Which meant probably half of the football team was also at the _Tipsy Cow_. My heart fluttered, both with anxiety of another possible run in with the Nightlocks and excitement with the prospect of Peeta possibly being there. 

He would be there, right? With the team? Halloween wasn’t the only thing worth celebrating that evening, and I remembered him saying his coach had been on him about getting out more.

I tried to refrain from getting too worked up, especially when I caught myself unconsciously smoothing my hair and adjusting my cleavage as we approached the strip of varying establishments. 

But when I opened my text messages, it was his name I sought. 

Our last conversation neared the top of my recent messages and I opened it up, typing out a quick message. 

** Me (10:23pm): **Guess what.

_ Peeta (10:23pm): _What?

** Me (10:24pm): **They let me out of the prison house tonight. 

“I’m freezing my tits off,” someone groaned from behind me. It was hard to distinguish voices between all of the groaning and complaining. 

_ Peeta (10:25pm): _Are you out on the District? 

** Me (10:25pm): **Yep. You?

_ Peeta (10:26pm): _Yeah. At a place called the Tipsy Cow, lol.

** Me (10:27pm): **They’re very original here in Wisconsin, lol. We’re on our way.

I hit send, then immediately regretted it.

I began to worry over the way I worded it, like the only reason we were going was because he’d just told me they were there. I could picture him panicking at the message, thinking I was weirdly obsessed with him. Or, more simply, not wanting to be in the same bar as twenty Theta girls...understandably so.

I didn’t recall ever reading so deeply into a text message before, and rolled my eyes in disgust. 

A side of me I didn’t particularly like was beginning to show itself, and though my first instinct was to bury it deep down and hide it, I also didn’t want him to leave before we arrived. 

Even though I hadn’t had any known confirmation all day that he would be out, more than half of my excitement about the evening had stemmed from the possibility of running into him. 

** Me (10:28pm): **I just mean, we were headed there too. Delly is meeting up with Thresh. 

_ Peeta (10:29pm): Cool. _

Cool? His short replies drove me crazy on a normal basis, but _ cool? _ Not even a ‘ _ see you in a minute _ ’ or anything to add? No. Just _ cool. _ I tucked my phone back into my purse, nerves getting the best of me as my stomach did somersaults the closer we got to the bright neon sign with a cow falling onto its back. 

I was surprised that it wasn’t nearly as crowded inside as I’d expected. The majority of party goers were bold enough to brave the elements to see the live bands playing or partake in the wide array of outdoor activities. I had no doubt that once the girls had a few more drinks in them, they would be drawn to the outdoor party as well.

I saw Thresh as he spotted Delly; eyebrows raised in a pleasantly surprised expression as he took her in from head to toe. She must’ve told him her costume idea, because he was dressed as Superman. And what a _ Superman _ he made. His large and demanding yet silent energy was perfectly on theme for the role.

Other familiar faces littered the bar too, but no Peeta.

I tried making a casual show of glancing around, but as I scanned more than half of the perimeter, I still hadn’t caught sight of him.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. No wonder he seemed less than enthused by the announcement of my arrival. Delly was right about the fact that intoxicated girls looking for a fun time would be out in the masses tonight and I was becoming increasingly aware of the ones who had a soft spot for Peeta.

He had probably already found his snack for the night. One who flirted with him because she was actually interested. One that made him feel good and confident, not self conscious and awkward like I did.

“Katniss?” 

I turned around quick in surprise at the sound of his voice, feeling like a deer in the headlights with his sudden appearance. He had a beer bottle in one hand, the other one resting at his side, fingers twitching. His nervous smile melted my insides.

“Hey,” I smiled, running a hand over my hair. “Funny running into you here.” 

_ Stop. Just stop. _

He laughed politely, and I didn’t miss the way his eyes unconsciously moved down my body, to the slope of my breasts, my barely clad legs, back to my breasts, back to my eyes. It wasn’t in the smooth way someone like Marvel might’ve done; slow and lingering, _ wanting _me to catch him. Peeta’s was more in small bursts. Look. Look away. Look back, like he couldn’t help himself, turn away. His neck flushed beneath the collar of his shirt. 

“I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“It’s the mask, huh?” I joked, unable to help gliding my fingers over it. “Really adds to the mystery.”

“You look good.” The compliment was spoken so casually, it lacked the flirtatious edge one might typically hint at. I didn’t care. He’d said I looked good and _ hell yeah _ I did. I wanted the image of me clad in leather burned into his mind permanently. 

_ Calm. Down. Literally a month ago you thought the guy would crush you like a pancake. _

Jesus, I’d like to see him try. 

“I’m ‘Kat Woman,’” I explained just in case he couldn’t tell, fingers bending in quotation at the lame pun. “It’s cheesy.”

I gave him a more pointed look over, taking in his casual Saturday night out getup. Jeans, plain t-shirt, red and black plaid button up that sat open over his shoulders. If he was going for irony in his costume, it was lost on me.

“And...what are you supposed to be?” 

“I didn’t get the memo that this outing was for Halloween,” he admitted, sheepishly. 

“It’s _ Fright Night, _ ” I deadpanned. Everyone in the university knew about _ Fright Night. _

“Halloween isn’t until Thursday.” He blinked. 

“Well yeah, but it’s a lot harder for people to go out on a Thursday.” Not impossible, but it would definitely make Friday lectures more interesting after a party of this size. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I guess you’re right. Finnick got me these, though.”

He pulled out a pair of fake vampire teeth from his pocket and slipped them into his mouth.

“What does that make you, now?” I inquired when he flashed me a pointy toothed smile.

“According to him, a vampire lumberjack,” he slurred, before taking them out. 

“Very creative,” I promised with heavy sarcasm as he took another sip of his beer. I did another quick scan of the bar but didn’t see Finnick anywhere. “Where is he, anyways?”

“He stayed back at the apartment. Still pretty sore from the game today.”

“You didn’t want to stay back, too?” 

“He’s got his girlfriend over. They’re watching scary movies.” Peeta shrugged. “Didn’t want to interrupt their alone time.” 

“Is that ever weird? Having them around?” It was a prying question, but I was curious. Both Finnick and Gale had girlfriends who, from what I could gather, frequented the apartment often. 

“Not really, no. They’re my friends too.”

“Yeah, but what about when they’re _ doing it,” _ I asked like a twelve year old. The flush building up his neck betrayed his indifference. “I assume it would make mornings somewhat awkward.” 

“Sometimes. The walls in the apartment aren’t exactly the thickest....but, I’m not sure if they know that.”

I giggled, relaxing into the conversation as we leaned against one of the high tables scattered around the place. A majority of the girls were surrounding the bar, flirting with the tenders to get free shots and ordering drinks. Distracted. No one seemed to notice or care about what Peeta and I were doing.

“Hey, nice game today.”

Peeta looked up, surprised, and pulled the lip of his beer bottle back away from his mouth slowly.

“You watched?”

“I was there,” I nodded, unable to help smiling at his chronic bashfulness.

“Well, now I’m definitely glad we won,” he admitted, quietly. Almost to himself. The muttered words piqued my interest and I raised an eyebrow up at him.

_ Was he flirting with me? _

“You did a good job.” I decidedly ignored his last statement, choosing to compliment him instead. He looked so caught off guard, like it was the absolute last thing he expected to come out of my mouth.

“Uh, thanks?” It came out as more of a question than an answer. 

“You don’t think so?” 

When he laughed, the sound went right through me, straight to the core. 

“It’s hard to explain. Most of the times the only comments made about lineman performance is when we mess up. Otherwise, people don’t really remember we’re there.” 

“You’re kind of hard to miss,” I snorted, instantly wanting to kick myself. I hadn’t meant it that way, only that he was the person I was staring at throughout the game, the one I searched for. 

Of course, it had sounded awful: _Yo__u’re huge. You can’t hide. _

I saw his hands fumble nervously within each other.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“It’s true,” he agreed with an easy shrug. “I just meant, we aren’t the guys whose faces get blown up on the mega screen or posters. You’re not going to see anyone running up for my picture or autograph the way you might with some of my other friends.”

I imagined that couldn’t feel very good. Being a college football star sounded like a dream, but probably not as much when you put in the same effort as your teammates and received a quarter of the credit. I mean, it looked just as difficult to block a giant from getting past as it did to hurl a ball down field. 

“That sucks,” I lamented.

Peeta chuckled, making me smile.

“I don’t mind it. I love the sport but to be honest, all the attention Panem gets made me nervous. I almost didn’t sign.”

“Really?” 

He nodded with a diffident smile.

“I’m happy to let them take the limelight.”

I don’t know why that made him all the more adorable. Honest, hard working, humble. He was a supporting lumbar in the spine of the team; there to provide support so his other teammates could take the glory. I had a ridiculous urge to squeeze him.

“Well, I’ll admit that I don’t always watch football, and I’m still a little fuzzy on the rules. But, prepare yourself, Mellark, because when I do watch, I’m going to be watching you.”

It was bold. _ Too bold? _I watched his expression for sign that I had crossed a line, but he only smiled, cheeks turning burgundy they were so red. 

“Okay.”

I smiled, pleased with how the conversation was going. 

“Do you want a drink?” he asked, motioning to the bar beside us.

“No. I mean I _ do _ but I can’t. I’m still on probation.”

“Oh, right. You can’t drink on probation?”

“No drinking, no parties, no boys.” I ticked off the main rules with my fingers.

“...Aren’t you breaking two of those rules right now?” he inquired with a tip of his head. 

“Tonight was an exception, because of Halloween. But, I’m not entirely free. Still have to be on _ designated girlfriend duty _ which means staying sober and looking out for the girls drinking. Basically I’m a glorified babysitter.” 

“The most fun part of going to a party.” 

“Right?” I eyed his beer. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to steal one sip, though.”

He handed me the bottle, allowing me to take a quick swig from it before returning it back to him.

“What about you?”

“It was easier to walk with so many streets closed off. But, I don’t usually drink enough that I can’t get myself home, anyways. One or two beers, max.”

“You’re a wild one.”

“Empty calories,” he explained. “They add up.”

“Peeta, hey!” Delly appeared from seemingly nowhere, Thresh close behind her, and wrapped Peeta into a welcoming hug. “Good game, today.”

“Thanks, Delly. You, too.”

I shifted awkwardly on my feet as her eyes fixated between the two of us, watchful and curious. Her pert lips turned up in the corners as she motioned to the door.

“Are you staying out? Some of us were thinking of heading down the street to this cool place that has _ dancing.” _

“Okay.”

I waited on Peeta to pay his tab, lingering by the table before we made our way to the exit and back out into the chilled air.

We had only been walking a couple of minutes before complaints of the temperature started up again. 

“It’s _ freezing,” _Maysilee whined, rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms to create friction.

“It’s not that bad,” I insisted, brushing her off. It helped that I had Peeta standing beside me, arm occasionally brushing mine. His body a personal hot box. “At least it’s not snowing.”

“I need to remember I don’t live in California anymore,” she bemoaned. “Next year, I wear a costume with _ sleeves.” _

“Here you go.” Peeta shrugged out of his plaid shirt without thought, handing it to Maysilee and I can’t describe the irritation that filled me watching her slip into his oversized jacket.

She wrapped it around her petite body, basking in its warmth. My eyes narrowed and I could feel my teeth clench behind a tight jaw. 

“Ah, so much better.” She sighed. “Thanks, Peeta.”

He stuffed his hands down into his pockets, shrugging easily. 

“No problem.”

It was a problem. 

I had no right to be upset. 

Of course he was being a gentleman, but it made the fact that he gave me his sweatshirt last weekend less special. I was just a cold damsel in distress. He was just acting on instinct. It had nothing to do with the fact that it was _ me. _Had he walked up while Clove was in the dunk tank, would he have paid to see her get down?

“You okay?” Maysilee whispered, picking up on my vibe as I purposely trailed behind the group, letting Peeta drift ahead of me.

“Fine.”

“I can take his jacket off, if you want me to.”

“Wouldn’t make a difference to me.” 

I was well aware that I was being a bitch, but it couldn’t be stopped. 

A few times I caught him glancing back at me, keeping tabs on where I was within our growing group as we walked the dimly lit streets. I felt stupid for ignoring it, like I hadn’t noticed. Like I wasn’t upset. 

But how could I tell him that I was pissed because he offered Maysilee his jacket and not me? Especially when I had just argued that it wasn’t all that cold out? 

I wrapped my arms around myself and trudged along to keep pace with the group. The flirting had been in my mind, then. Peeta was just a nice guy.

Of course he wasn’t flirting with me. 

* * *

The first snow of the year fell on the last day in October. 

Thick flakes fell from the sky like cotton balls, dusting the air but disintegrating into saturation before it could accumulate on the ground. 

It was cold enough that I dragged my winter jacket and gloves out the back of the closet for my commute to class. Even by afternoon, it had not let up but continued in its stubborn arrival.

I didn’t mind it too much. The first snowfall always held some unspoken magic and wonder to it, no matter how many years it’s witnessed. It was peaceful, a promise of new beginnings and a doing away with the past. 

After today, Halloween would be over and with it fall. In its place would be fairy lights twining the lamp poles and bare trees, candy cane flavors replacing pumpkin and Christmas music everywhere. 

I put my headphones in and stuffed my hands down into my jacket to preserve some warmth as I walked down from campus to the District. It was almost friday, snow had graced us with its presence and I’d passed one of the hardest exams of the semester. I decided to treat myself at _ Second Rebellion. _

The two story café was whimsical and welcoming. The warm smell of freshly baked goods and coffee beans wafted through the air and soft music completed the atmosphere as it lulled in the background.

I placed my typical order and took a number before climbing the steep stairs up to the second floor. I stopped, stunned, almost as soon as I walked up and came into direct view of Peeta. He was seated at a small table lining the wall with black wireless headphones over his ears. The band stretching over the top of his head smoothed down his curls, making them stick out more fiercely behind it. 

“It was only a matter of time before we ran into each other here.”

Peeta looked up from his iPad and pulled the headphones down to rest around his neck in one fluid motion. When he met my gaze, his eyes sparked.

Not with embarrassment. Not with nervousness. But, _ pleasure. _ He looked happy to see me standing in front of him in the coffee shop.

“Honestly, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.”

I unwrapped my scarf from around my neck and began to undo the buttons of my thick winter coat as I lingered by his table.

“Are you just grabbing coffee or…” his words trailed off with lingering invitation. 

“I’m finished with classes for the day. Just came to refuel before the gym.”

On either side of his iPad were notebooks and a thick binder. He had three sets of highlighters out along with both a pen and a pencil--in the thick of studying, it seemed. 

“...Am I interrupting?”

He looked down and started to clear a space.

“No, I needed a break.”

“Homework?” I guessed and when he nodded his head in confirmation, it struck me that after all this time I still didn’t know his major.

I was almost embarrassed to ask at this point. Talk about self-centered. _ What’s your major? _was practically a greeting on campus. 

For a moment, I debated skirting the question and finding out in some round about way through either more extensive stalking or subtly asking Delly. But, when I fell down into the chair across from him, I figured the only thing more awkward than the fact I didn’t know his major still, was having yet _ another _ conversation where the question went unanswered. So I asked.

“Culinary arts,” he replied, smoothly. Not at all phased by the delayed question.

The answer caught me by surprise. I’d met people with strange majors--hell, mine was far from the norm--but I’d never met anyone who was in school to be a chef. 

_ He could cook? _I pictured him in the white uniform jacket all the culinary students wore; sleeves rolled up to reveal his thick forearms. Gaze concentrated and serious as he focused on the artistry that paired with being a chef.

It was not a bad mental image. 

I must’ve stared too long because he shifted under my scrutiny, silently trying to decipher it. The last thing I wanted was to break our small bubble of normalcy by being weird and making him uncomfortable. He’d invited me to sit down with him. In public. That was huge.

“What got you interested in culinary?” I asked, trying to press forward. I leaned one elbow on the table casually, cupping my drink with the free hand. 

“My parents own a bakery back home. Growing up, my older brother and I spent a lot of time there. Before the days of strict child labor laws,” he spoke with a teasing smile. “We were paid in frosting shots and cookies.”

“Not a bad gig,” I said and Peeta agreed with a laugh.

“Yeah, we thought it was a fair trade. My parents taught me everything I knew about baking before coming here. Their passion is what spurred mine as a child and overtime it just seemed like a natural fit. It’s something I love and am reasonably good at.” 

“So you want to be a pastry chef?” Damn, that was...well, pretty attractive if I was being perfectly honest. 

He nodded.

“What about if you get drafted for the NFL? Would you choose baking over football?”

He thought it over for a minute, scratching the back of his neck. Thinking. Always thinking. Never quick to answer, always rational. It was something I admired about him, he didn’t feel rushed to say something he didn’t mean. He took his time to formulate a response.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “I guess I haven’t given a professional football career much thought.”

“Why not?”

“The odds never seemed in my favor.”

The barista approached our table with my order in tow, placing it down in front of me. She set extra napkins down between Peeta and I before slipping away.

“Avocado toast is my weakness,” I muttered, embarrassed as I cut the pieces in half. When I ordered, I hadn’t expected to run into anyone. 

“I’ve never tried it,” Peeta revealed and I set my knife down, giving him a pointed look of disappointment from across the table.

“And you call yourself a chef.” I clucked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “That changes today. You can try some of mine.”

“You don’t have to,” Peeta insisted with a shake of his head. 

“Trust me, I do. It hurts my basic heart that you’ve never had it. You like avocados, right?”

“Yeah. Put them in smoothies a lot.”

I shifted the plate so it was more centrally located between the two of us and silently motioned for him to take half with the tip of my head.

“Okay, then. Moment of truth.”

He picked it up in his sturdy hand; whole wheat toast with avocado spread and an over-easy egg on top. Fresh arugula sprinkled over it for garnishing along with salt and pepper to taste. He took a bite, cheeks turning pink when the egg yolk split, running a little bit down his lip and into his beard. He reached for a napkin as he chewed. Wiped his face and then gave me a thumbs up.

“Good?”

“Very.”

I took a bite and moaned my agreement, eyes sliding closed as I enjoyed the first hit on my lips. When I opened them, Peeta was watching me like he’d seen something he wasn’t supposed to.

“Sorry. I make sex noises when I eat, sometimes.”

His laughter was a soft snort through his nose.

“Just means it’s good.”

“Yeah, well, if your baking is half as good as it sounds, I’ll probably orgasm.”

I didn’t think it was possible for someone's eyes to go so wide. Peeta looked at me like I was sitting there topless; his hands shifting nervously around the napkin on the table.

“That would be...interesting.”

“I’m just kidding,” I snickered, pushing back the feeling of self consciousness. 

_ “I know.” _

“Personal question time,” I warned him, taking another bite of my toast. Peeta sat up a little straighter and I beckoned him closer to me, until we were both leaning into the table. I waited until he raised his coffee to his lips to ask. 

“Are you a virgin?”

And I swear he nearly spit it out. I watched with patience, amused as he coughed and swallowed before looking at me again.

"W-why are you asking that?"

“Because you turned fifty shades of red when I said _ orgasm.” _

“Well…” he trailed off, as if that one word was supposed to explain everything.

“Well?”

“It’s kind of an _ intimate _ word.”

I was unable to help the way I burst out laughing, and although he shifted in his seat like he wished it might swallow him, he was still willing to join in my delight with an awkward laugh of his own. 

“So you are then?” I guessed.

“What?”

_ “A virgin,” _I whispered, not trying to draw attention to us. As it was, he was nearly purple he was blushing so hard. Last thing I needed was to get the rumor mill going around campus about us again.

“No,” he answered and then took another sip of his coffee to busy himself. At my skeptical look, his eyes shifted. “I’m not.” 

“Hmm. Did you like do it once on prom night or something?”

“Why are you so convinced I’m a virgin?” he asked, voice more curious than defensive. 

Why? Because he was so sweet. Because he blushed at the mere mention of _ sex _when most guys his age would jump at the chance to make some sort of gross innuendo given the chance. I didn’t say any of this, of course, but instead gave him a coy shrug.

“A hunch.” 

So fine, not a virgin then. I guess that would be rather difficult, given his status. Major player or not, bigger or fit as a fiddle, he was on the football team which meant on some level there had to be jock chasers and groupies hunting him down off the field. 

His silence at my speculation did nothing to ease my suspicions.

“Did you lose it to one of them?” I asked in what was probably the wildest conversation I’d ever had over coffee at 3pm on a Thursday, ever. But, it was interesting. And fun. And honest to god I needed these answers before my mind exploded.

“Yeah,” he admitted reluctantly. 

Huh. Interesting.

“What about you?” he asked, flipping the script. 

“No. I’m not.” 

I’m sure he could’ve guessed that I had at least some experience. I’d practically pulled him into the first empty room I could find on our first _ “official” _ date. He didn’t say anything, just nodded and scratched his ear. 

“Oh, I have your jacket.” The one he let Maysilee borrow. She’d given it to me to return, figuring I would see Peeta before she would. I’d thought to protest, but decided against it. Last thing I needed was Maysilee seeking Peeta out--good intentions or not. If she wanted me to return his jacket, fine. 

I reached into my backpack, pulling the neatly folded plaid over-shirt out and handing it across the table to him.

“Thanks.”

“You know, if you keep handing your clothes out to every cold girl you meet, you’re going to end up needing a new wardrobe.”

He laughed nervously, tucking the jacket into his bag.

“I still owe you a sweatshirt back.” I didn’t admit I’d purposely forgotten about it, because I liked how warm and big it was. 

“There’s no rush.”

“Do you often loan out your clothing?” 

“No, but most of the time people don’t wear bikinis in October.”

I scoffed at his amusement, giving him a kick under the table. 

“Are you making fun of me?”

“A little bit,” he admitted, still smiling. I _ loved _that he was smiling. Loved that he was sitting in a coffee shop laughing and talking with me like it was before. 

“You seem to have remembered you live in Wisconsin, now,” He continued with a smooth motion towards the fuzzy earmuffs wrapped around my neck. “Far more appropriate attire.”

“I’ll have you know that Wisconsin has not provided my first experience with snow,” I informed him with an unwarranted air of superiority. 

“Really?”

_ “Mhm,” _ I nodded. “I’m from Pittsburgh. Well equipped to handle winter, thank you very much.” 

“You sure are,” he agreed, easily. “Far tougher than me.” 

“Really?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“It was an adjustment,” he continued. “Coming from Virginia Beach, where they cancel school for an inch of snow.”

“That is weak,” I teased gently, still nursing my hot chocolate. “So, why’d you leave Virginia then? Or why not pick someplace warmer to go to school?_ ” _

“Panem recruited me on an athletic scholarship. The deal was too good to pass up.”

“I didn’t know you were here on a scholarship.” There was still a lot about Peeta I didn’t know, come to find out. 

“It doesn’t cover everything, but it definitely helps.” Seeming to grow uncomfortable with the shift our conversation had taken to focus on him, Peeta changed it back to me. “What about you? What made you want to leave Pittsburgh?”

A loaded question if there ever was one. 

“My dad died my sophomore year of high school.” I stared down at my mug, but was acutely aware of Peeta’s stare boring into the top of my head. “And everything reminded me of him. The streets, the smells...even things as stupid as picking up take-out sent me into spirals that made it feel like I couldn’t breathe.” 

Most of the girls in Theta knew he had passed away--there were _ Father weekends _ and other events throughout the year that I had to awkwardly opt out of--but if I could avoid the subject all together, I did. Hardly ever did I offer him up in discussion, but Peeta had always been easy to talk with. The story fell off my lips before I could stop it. 

When I chanced a look up, I could feel the pain in Peeta’s expression as he regarded me with sorrow and I found comfort in his ability to remain silent. It was the gut instinct to apologize, to dive headfirst into comfort. I understood that. I was probably guilty of _ doing _ that before. But now, even the sincerest of apologies felt disingenuine. Like a cop out. A way to get me to stop talking and move on to an easier subject.

Peeta listened.

“I had to get out,” I continued with a shrug. “I looked into schools across the country with the best Environmental Science programs and fell in love with the midwest. Panem was the first acceptance letter I received, and the more I looked into the school the more it felt like a good decision for me. So...here I am.”

“I can’t even begin to understand how that feels, Katniss,” he sighed. 

“That’s a good thing, right?” I asked with a weak shrug. “I’m okay most days, now. It gets harder around the holidays and things. Mostly because I feel guilty having left my mom and sister back in Pennsylvania. It’s not easy for us to go back and forth so we don’t see each other often.”

“What did they say when you told them you decided on Panem?”

“My mom bought a _ U of P _sticker for the back of her car,” I smirked with a fake roll of my eyes. “My sister didn’t talk to me for a week.” 

Peeta smiled at my indifferent shrug.

“She came around.”

“It’s nice you two are close.”

“Are you and your brother?”

He nodded. “I have two, actually. Bannock is twenty-four and Rye is almost thirteen.” 

“That’s...quite the age gap.”

“It’s kept things interesting.” 

His phone buzzed on the table next to him and he seemed to notice the time when he glanced down quick. A look of regret crossed his face. I could guess what it meant.

“Need to get going?” I guessed.

“Yeah,” he said, begrudgingly. “We have film study tonight before practice.” 

“Film study?” I repeated, gathering my dishes and napkins up. 

“Footage from our most recent game,” he explained with a wiry smile. “Mostly to tell us everything we did wrong so we can fix it before we play again.” 

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure I liked how that sounded, but my response made Peeta snort.

“It’s not nearly as dramatic as I made it seem. It’s good.”

“If you say so…” I insisted, wishing this didn’t need to be over. “This was fun.”

Peeta fiddled with the straps on his backpack, smoothing his hands up and down them before agreeing.

“It was.” He sounded pleasantly surprised. “Maybe...maybe we could do it again sometime?”

I tried to hide my smile by gnawing my lower lip, but was probably unsuccessful.

_Who cares?_

“Yeah. Maybe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How is there only 10 days until Christmas?! December has flown by. Hope everyone has a great last full week until the holidays! Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!


	8. November 4-8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** Chapter Trigger Warning: ** Non-consenting Drug Consumption.

* * *

_If you're gonna tell them everything, tell them I'm a good kisser._

-Lake Street Dive

* * *

“The look I’m going for is _ Chanel _ on a _ Target _ budget,” Prim explained, idly perusing the clearance section at the local Target back in Pittsburgh. She had me on FaceTime, propped up in the shopping cart by her purse so that she could show off any potential buys. 

I did the same here in Panem. Was it over dramatic to go on a shopping run with my little sister from four states away? Absolutely. But these trips helped Prim to cope with the fact that I was so far and not as easily accessible as I used to be. Browsing the women’s clothing section in Target was a small price to pay to see Prim smile.

“That’s not a tall order or anything,” I deadpanned, rolling my eyes at her through the camera as I browsed. There was a striped shirt folded on top of a table, and Prim’s nose wrinkled as I picked it up to admire it.

“Yuck, put that back. It’s a date, Katniss. I need a _ dress.” _

“Calm down, this isn’t for you.” I tossed it into my cart. “It’s for me. I need a new work shirt.”

“Focus,” she hissed with a snap of her fingers. I glanced at the screen as she held up a plain black dress with material that would surely cling to her form. Adamantly, I shook my head. She returned it to the rack with a sigh. “This is a serious mission, Katniss. The date is this Friday, I only have four days to prepare.”

“Who is this kid, again?” I asked. “Is he age appropriate? What’s he like?”

“His name is Steven, and he’s a junior.” She couldn’t help the way her lips pursed up in a hidden smile at the mention of his higher grade. “We met in calculus.”

“Nerds,” I teased, lightheartedly. My sister was absolutely smitten with whoever this _Steven _ character was. I hadn’t seen so much blushing since...well, since I’d last run into Peeta. At the thought of him I felt heat tickle my own cheeks and pushed it away, focusing on Prim.

She was really growing up. When I left for Panem she was the stick thin middle schooler who wore her hair in two braids and was painstakingly shy. I watched her now, back turned to me as she rooted through a section of dresses for her size. Blonde hair falling down her back in natural waves, resting just below her hips. Because she had those, now. 

She was wearing makeup...even lipstick. _ I _ didn’t even wear lipstick, really. I wasn’t sure if it was practice for the date, or if that was just something she did regularly, but she wasn’t nearly as clumsy at applying it as I had been. I remembered the first time I wore eye shadow for school pictures. I’d picked a deep shade of green--my favorite color, naturally--and looked horrendous. I begged Mom to let me take re-shoots, but she insisted on not only keeping but framing the picture for lasting shame.

Prim’s makeup was flawless, with colors and hues that accented her blue eyes and mascara to make them pop without weighing down the look with eyeliner. 

“How about this?” I asked, holding up a floral dress that Prim shrugged with indifference towards. 

“Where is he taking you, again?” I asked. 

“A silent dance.” I felt about ninety years old when Prim sighed dramatically at me not instantly knowing what she was referring to. “You wear headphones and there’s like, three or four different DJs you can choose from to tune into. So everyone is dancing, but it could be to different things.” 

“What’s wrong with a traditional dance?” I asked, eyebrow quirked.

“This way is more fun. Gives everyone a taste of what they want.”

“If you say so.”

“What do you think of this one?” she asked, holding up a deep purple velvet dress. It had long sleeves and stopped midway up the thigh from the looks of it. Simple, but cute. A nice touch of flirtatious but appropriate. 

“That will look good on you.”

“To the dressing room!”

“I may need you to send me pics, little duck,” I frowned. “I have to get going.”

“What fun and exciting college things do you have planned for tonight?” she asked, voice wistful as she started towards the back of the store. 

I laughed, heading in the opposite direction of mine, to the front checkout. 

“Just study group.”

Her smile faltered.

“Oh, that’s right. You’re on probation. I need to start calling Delly for my weekly dose of drama, you’re boring.”

“There are worse things to be called than boring.”

“How is everything going, anyways? With that boy?”

Despite my lack of social life, Prim and I hadn’t had much time to talk and catch up over the past several weeks. We texted regularly and were able to slip in a few phone calls, but the limited time I had to talk with my sister wasn’t spent on filling her into my Peeta Mellark drama.

“Alright,” I supplied, vaguely. “I don’t think he hates me anymore.” 

“That’s progress, right?” she asked. 

“I know. I really hadn’t expected him to ever talk to me again but...yeah. I mean, whatever we are it’s several steps up from where we were the day in the library.”

“Is that weird?”

“No?” I answered slowly, voice raising a little at the end of the sentence. “I don’t think so.”

“Just curious,” she shrugged. “I mean, you said you were a campus pariah. I didn’t know if people treated you differently now that you guys are on good terms.”

“Well, I don’t know if I’d exactly call it _ good terms.” _ The wording felt too hopeful for whatever dance Peeta and I had taken up. It definitely had the potential to be _ good, _but talking about it outloud felt like I would be jinxing it. 

“Keep me posted on any developments,” Prim encouraged, heading into the changing room. “I’ll call you before my date this weekend. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

  
  


My ideal Tuesday night did not include Johanna Mason and a trek to the absolute furthest dorm building possible from main campus and greek row. 

Winter was well on its way in Wisconsin, making the walk far less pleasant than it would’ve been earlier in the semester. My hands were nearly frozen by the time I rapped on the door. 

“Nice of you to join us, Princess.” Johanna greeted, voice dripping with sarcasm the way it usually was in regards to me. 

She flung the door open wider before disappearing further inside with no further greeting. Ignoring her, I chose instead to give Beetee and Wiress a quick wave as I shed my coat and scarf. They returned the greeting from where they sat huddled in a circle around open notebooks and laptops, waiting for me to join. 

“I would’ve been on time, if it didn’t take thirty minutes and two buses to get here,” I grumbled. “You didn’t have to wait for me to begin.” 

“You have the shared documents on your hard drive, so yes actually we did.”

“I could’ve emailed it.”

“That wouldn’t have been necessary if you had just been on time.”

“Let’s all take a deep breath before we begin,” Beetee encouraged, apparently having had quite enough of mine and Johanna’s bickering. “Fighting won’t help anything.”

We weren’t nearly as far along on the research project as we ought to have been, and with midterms over and the semester more than halfway through, we were all beginning to panic, which only added to the ongoing tension in our small group.

Trying to follow Beetee’s advice, I inhaled a calming breath. 

“Beetee is right. Let’s just work together and get this thing finished.” 

There was a bubble bath and Netflix waiting for me when I got home. The sooner we finished and I could be on my way, the better. 

“Fine,” Johanna agreed reluctantly, crossing her legs as she rejoined the group.

“I made brownies,” Wiress interjected, pulling tin foil off the top of the pan and setting it in between us all. “Brain food to help us focus.”

“Thank god,” I groaned, cutting a corner piece off before biting into it. I nodded my approval as I chewed and instantly took another bite. Johanna gave me a sideways glance, curious, and I frowned at her judgement. I knew that I could be a pig when I ate, but she didn’t have to freaking stare.

“What?” I asked. “I haven’t eaten since eleven this morning. I’m starving.”

“Nothing,” Johanna shrugged, picking the knife up to cut herself a piece. “Out of curiosity, Wiress, are these brownies _ special?” _

Wiress’s lips turned up into a wide grin, not helped by her near-manic laughter. I tried to understand the joke, really, but sometimes she was too weird for even me to comprehend. 

“Special?” I asked, hesitating_ . _

“They have nuts, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Wiress told Johanna. They shared another laugh as I was left wondering when the two of them became so _ friendly. _ Johanna was satisfied with her answer, taking half of the brownie into her mouth in one bite and looking surprised to see me taking another. 

“Jesus, Everdeen. They’re not going anywhere.” 

“_ Eleven a.m., _ ” I reiterated, self-consciously. “I have not eaten since _ eleven a.m. _Leave me alone.”

“No ones judging, I’m just surprised to see you packing it away like that. I would’ve thought sugar consumption went against your cult-_-_I mean _sorority--_values.” 

“Nope,” I answered, popping another bite into my mouth to punctuate the word. I dusted my fingers off on my jeans before settling in with my laptop. 

“Okay, let’s get to work.” 

A half an hour or so passed by uneventfully and then the room started changing.

I could’ve sworn the lighting in this building was subpar when I first arrived, but it felt insanely bright now. Growing brighter each moment. I blinked and it was like they were flickering. 

Dull. Bright. Dull. Bright.

“You okay?” Johanna snickered, and something about her laughter triggered my own. Like a stream of water finally bursting through a dam; unstoppable. I was nearly in hysterics, and I had no idea why. Nothing Johanna Mason had ever said to me before was ever this amusing.

I felt _ funky. _

I bent at the waist and panicked a little, because it felt like I was falling even though I was sitting. My hand reached out in front of me to catch and steady myself against the carpet. 

“Can anyone else blink?”

“I can’t,” Beetee commented, almost panicked as he removed and put his glasses back on several times. 

“Me neither,” I muttered. “I feel...really weird.”

“You still haven’t figured it out?” Johanna asked and Wiress, spread out on the floor making ‘snow angels’ in the carpet, started giggling. 

“Figured...it…” I started, slowly. My tongue felt too thick for my mouth and I started to worry I was having a sudden allergic reaction to the nuts. 

“They’re weed brownies, Katniss.”

My brain felt like it was running on old software with ten tabs open in the browser, but the realization that Wiress had brought and served us pot brownies during study group cut through the haze as easily as the knife had cut into her baked goods.

_ “No,” _ I gasped, eyes widening and _ shit _ that was a bad idea because of these bright fucking lights. 

They all lost it. Even Beetee, who looked on the verge of a panic attack. I shuffled around my laptop and climbed right into Johanna’s lap, gripping her cheeks between my sweaty palms.

“Get off of me,” she insisted, half serious despite the fact she was still laughing.

“This is bad. Sugar isn’t against the rules but _ weed is.” _

“You can’t smoke in your stupid sorority? Lame.”

“I’m on probation.” I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped me. Still on top of Johanna, I shook her head in my hands because it felt easier than trying to shake my own. “I’ll get banished.”

“Banished?” Wiress asked. “Like the abominable snowman?”

“Worse,” I groaned, solemnly and she sat up on her elbows.

“Whoa.”

_ “Oh no,” _ I whined, falling off of Johanna and back onto the floor. “No, no, no.”

“Dear god, even stoned you’re high maintenance as hell. Prom Queen, get a grip. Just...try acting normal. It’s not that hard. Wiress walks around high half the time and barely anyone notices.”

“True,” Wiress agreed.

“I don’t even know what normal is anymore,” I whispered, resting my head back against Johanna’s bed. “Can I spend the night here?”

“Absolutely not.” She didn’t even hesitate. “Just...drink some water.”

I gripped her mattress tightly in my hands, rising up on shaky legs.

“Someone needs to record this. My phone is dead,” she chuckled and I shot them all a death glare, daring to walk across the dorm room like it was my first steps.

“_ No one _ records this or I will _ literally _ hunt you down and kill you,” I threatened. Immediately, Beetee put his phone back in his pocket.

I grabbed a water bottle, suddenly realizing how thirsty I was, and chugged the entire thing before filling it up with more water from the sink.

“Everdeen,” Johanna called from the floor. “Can you get a ride home? You annoy the shit out of me and all but I can’t have you dying until we turn in our final project.”

Even through the fog of my brain, I knew options were limited. I didn’t trust myself to try explaining to any of the girls how I’d gotten myself into this situation, especially when I already skirted the extremely thin ice of probation. Fear that they wouldn’t believe me, and that I would be kicked out settled in the pit of my stomach and kept me from reaching out to any of them.

Marvel or one of the other guys at Lambda would come pick me up, no problem. But, I didn’t trust any of them to keep tonights incident to themselves and could just imagine it becoming the hot topic of discussion next time they were all drinking. That would be even worse than just calling the girls myself tonight. 

I forced my uncooperative fingers to unlock my phone. They felt heavy and sluggish, each slight move of them taking entirely too much brain power. I opened my recent text messages, hoping it would spark inspiration as to who I should contact, and came across Peeta’s name. I clicked opened the conversation and hovered over the text box.

We hadn’t talked much today, just a short exchange from the morning. The last message in the conversation from him being a crazy-face emoji, eyes crossed and tongue hanging out in reply to my expressed rage over the seasonal menu changes at the Union café. 

_ Cute. _

Focus, Katniss. 

Play it cool.

** Me (9:07pm): **Heyyyyyyy.

It only took a moment for the bubbles to appear at the bottom of the screen, signaling his incoming message.

_ Peeta (9:08pm): _Lol, hey? 

** Me (9:08pm): **What are you doing right now?

_ Peeta (9:09pm): _Not much. Just playing some video games with my roommates.

_ Peeta (9:09pm): _Everything okay?

“Why wouldn’t you tell me these were pot brownies?” I accused of Johanna, not quite angry enough to sound menacing despite real effort. My lips kept curling up against my will. My whole body felt _ up. _ Like gravity wasn’t doing its job and I could just float, float, float away.

“Because this way is so much better,” she snickered, watching me with casual arms folded across her stomach. 

My phone started to buzz in my hand, startling me.

I fumbled with it a moment before reading the name at the top of the screen. _ Peeta. _

“Is this your first time having edibles?” Johanna asked just as I swiped to pick up the call.

“Peeta?” I asked.

“Katniss?”

“Hey.” I was still smiling. I wasn’t sure that I would ever stop. “Why are you calling?”

“Ah, your texts sounded kind of off.” There was as much background noise on his end as there was on mine. A male voice cursing loudly and an explosion.

“Then you stopped replying,” Peeta continued, moving away from the noise.

“I was drinking water,” I replied, logically.

“Are you...drunk?”

“No,” I laughed, the idea outrageous.

“...Are you sure?”

“I’m not drunk,” I insisted again, more forcibly.

“She’s _ high,” _ Johanna cackled in the background and I threw my empty water bottle at her.

“Katniss. Are uh, is this a joke?” Peeta fumbled, and I could practically picture him on the other end of the phone. Nervous hands stuffed down into his pockets, eyes shifting as he tried to decipher the meaning behind my actions. Real, or not real? Truth, or more lies? His uncertainty cut through me.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called,” I admitted, closing my eyes as I leaned against the counter top.

“I called you.”

“I ate a brownie,” I rambled on. “I should’ve known better than to eat something Wiress made, but hunger was my enemy tonight. I haven’t eaten since _ eleven this morning, _ Peeta.” 

“That’s...a long time.”

“It was a pot brownie,” I whispered. “I had two.”

I swear I heard a breathless laugh on the other end of the phone.

“Where are you right now?”

“The Water’s Edge dorms. Johanna told me that I can’t spend the night.”

“Okay. Do you need me to call somebody? Delly, maybe?”

“Not Delly,” I groaned. “Not any of them. They’ll be so mad, Peeta. I can just take the bus.”

“You can’t take the bus, Katniss.” His voice was serious. Stern. _ Sexy, _if I was being entirely honest. “Just...stay put, okay? I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

True to his word, Peeta was there in almost exactly ten minutes. Johanna helped me into my coat and handed me another water bottle, my third.

“You were a fucking delight tonight, Everdeen.”

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Gross,” she muttered, smile faltering as she spun me around to face Peeta. “She’s your issue now, chump.”

Peeta stood in the doorway in a Virginia Beach pullover sweatshirt and mesh gym shorts despite the cold air. Like he hadn’t been planning on going out for the rest of the evening, but hadn’t even taken the time to change before jumping in his truck to come get me.

“Are these your pajamas?” I asked, looking him up and down. He led me down the abandoned hallway, uncaring that I was holding onto his broad arm to balance myself as we walked.

“Uh, no.”

“I would wear those as pajamas,” I told him on a sigh, stroking the material of his sweatshirt. It reminded me of the one he’d given that was at home. I wanted to be wearing it now, curled up in bed with it wrapped around me as an extra layer. 

“What?” he asked, like I had just said something, but I couldn’t remember speaking out loud. His eyes were a little wider than normal, mystified, and the distinct glow of red skin crept up his neck.

“Huh?” I asked, and he shook his head, dismissing the conversation. 

I tripped over something imaginary and craned my head up to look at Peeta with worry creasing my brow.

“Are you okay?” I asked, grabbing hold of his arm again. He suppressed a laugh and I felt his muscles jump at the contact.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking, Katniss.”

“The floor feels like clouds,” I muttered, taking a tentative step forward. “It’s hard to walk.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised lowly, leading me to the elevator. 

His truck was parked illegally outside the main entrance of the dorms; flashers blinking and engine still running. 

Gale sat in the window, half of his body leaning outside of the truck with arms gripping the roof as he looked down at us with an unreadable expression. 

“You’re joking, right?”

“You could at least be helpful and get the door,” Peeta told him, still supporting most of my weight as we made our way to the truck.

Gale fell back inside the vehicle and a moment later the passenger door on the driver’s side opened. 

“Do you need help?” Peeta asked tentatively as I struggled to gain my footing. It wouldn’t be so difficult if the car would _ stop moving _ from left to right.

I sighed in defeat and Peeta extended a hand out for me to grasp. I held onto the door with the other hand and lifted myself up into the backseat. 

The first thing I noticed was that the seats, even back here, were heated. It felt good against my chilled skin.

The second thing was Gale, now in the front seat with his head craned back to look at me.

I blinked in the silence. 

“The trickster got tricked,” was all I said. 

“This is too fucking much,” he muttered to Peeta, voice low, as if he suspected I couldn’t hear or was just too out of it to care. Maybe I was. His words didn’t even sting. I felt like a dog on its last car ride; hopeful and happy and completely oblivious to what was in store for me.

“Her classmates made pot brownies. She didn’t know and ate some. ”

“Seems like a real winner, dude.”

“She _ didn’t know _.” 

“Right. According to who? The high, lying brat in your back--”

“--Hey,” Peeta’s voice clipped through the air, deep and strong. The glare he sent his friend was so unlike him that I couldn’t help but stare. “Shut the hell up.”

“Seriously, man?” The concern in Gale’s voice held sincerity. “What are you doing?”

Peeta sighed, and then, so low I almost couldn’t hear him, mumbled, “I don’t know.”

“She’s cute and all, but you don’t need this kind of drama.”

Peeta glanced back at me through the rear view mirror. Our eyes met, his vibrant blue, like the water I used to swim in down at the creek in our woods when I was a kid. 

“How are you feeling, Katniss?” 

“I’m hungry.”

That wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. I could see it in his raised eyebrows. 

“Yeah?”

I nodded.

“And I have to pee. Johanna kept making me drink water, but it didn’t help. I’m still hungry, and this seat belt is doing nothing to keep me from floating away and now I have to pee.”

“Dear god,” Gale grumbled, shaking his head. He turned to look back at me, “You got the munchies, Cat Piss? You want Taco Bell?”

“Stop calling her that.”

_ Taco Bell? _ Why did that sound so damn good?

“I haven’t had Taco Bell in forever.”

“I bet,” Gale snorted. “Too beneath you, huh?”

“Too far,” I replied, head pressed against the cool glass of the window. “Takes at least an hour to get anywhere off campus by the bus.”

“Bus? Why the fuck are you taking the bus?”

“Leave it alone,” Peeta told him and for once, his friend listened.

“Eh, Taco Bell is garbage, anyways,” he decided with a shrug of one of his broad shoulders. “You want good tacos, you need to go to Casa de Maya in the District. Ever been there?”

I shook my head and Gale groaned, as if in pain.

“I’m trying here, Cat Piss, but you’re kind of killing me.”

“Dude, quit it. I’ve got something we can give her. Just have to swing by the apartment on our way.”

“Not the cheese buns,” Gale whispered, shooting daggers Peeta’s way. “Madge loves them.”

“Madge loves them, or _you_ love them?”

“Can’t we both?”

Peeta snickered, putting the car into park across the street from the apartment and climbed out from the truck.

“I’ll be right back.”

The silence was deafening in his disappearance. I kept waiting for Gale to say something--anything--even if it wasn’t the nicest. But he remained stubbornly silent until Peeta returned with a clear bag in tow.

He passed it back to me; two still-warm rolls inside. Their heat fogged the bag and when I broke the seal, a delicious scent wafted through the car.

I inhaled deeply and released a quiet moan before pulling one out and breaking it in half. Warm, gooey cheese melted on the inside, creating a long string as I pulled the sides apart. 

I finished the cheese buns at an embarrassingly quick rate. So fast that Peeta blinked in surprise and Gale laughed out loud.

“Damn, do they feed you over at that sorority house?”

“Not like this.”

“Katniss? I think I need to call Delly.” Peeta scratched the back of his neck as I licked my fingers clean. 

I knew he was right. I was likely screwed either way, but at least if Delly walked me into the house I would only be guilty of one offense rather than the two I’d receive for showing up with Peeta.

“I’m never trusting a brownie again.”

“That seems unnecessary,” Peeta said lightly, pulling out his phone. “Don't worry. I’ll explain, okay?”

I nodded, too tired to argue. Now that my stomach was sated, I felt exhausted. My eyes were heavy and my bones felt weighed down. I laid down to ease the fatigue, against the warm interior of Peeta’s truck.

I decided to rest my eyes for a moment.

  
+++  
  


_ “She’s in the back seat. I think she fell asleep.” _Peeta’s voice broke through my consciousness and then there was a rush of cold air as the door swung open.

I groaned, curling up into a tighter ball on the seat until a soft hand touched my ankle.

“Peeta?” I asked, groggily.

“Katniss,” a female voice answered, and the hand crept up my leg reassuringly. “It’s Delly. Come on, it’s time for bed.”

I rolled over on the seat and peered out at the concerned faces of both Peeta and Delly. 

“Am I in trouble?”

“No,” she promised. “But, we need to be quiet, okay? Let’s go.”

“Okay.”

Delly helped me out of the truck, thanking Peeta before linking our arms together. We were about a block away from the Theta house and the dark streets were quiet. 

I turned back over my shoulder as we walked away, noting Peeta’s shy smile as he waved goodbye.

“You’re going to give me gray hairs, Everdeen.”

* * *

“Hey, busy bee.”

I looked up past my veil of hair to see Delly hovering over the table, peering down at me in greeting.

“Hey.”

“Hope that I’m not interrupting any inspiring thoughts,” she said, nodding towards my open laptop and sketches of different plant foliage. 

“No, please do,” I encouraged, welcoming her with a gesture to sit. She didn’t, but instead stared at me as I rubbed my temples. “I’m going on hour three of being here and I think I might be dying.”

“Sounds serious.” She winced.

“The prognosis is awful,” I confirmed with feigned graveness that made Delly laugh.

“Hmm. Well, thankfully I think I might have a cure.” She tapped her manicured nails against the table and wiggled her eyebrows in suspense. 

“Do tell.”

“The culinary department is having a taste off this afternoon,” she sang, excitement waning when I didn’t immediately join in. “Free food, Katniss.”

A tempting offer, for sure. Free food before cycling meant I wouldn’t be hungry later and be forced to spend an obscene amount of money on dinner. 

But being in the culinary department meant the odds of running into Peeta were almost definite. I’d managed to successfully avoid him all week since I last contacted him high off my ass and then fell asleep in his truck.

The details of the evening had been murky when I woke, but Delly--true friend that she was--had no problem helping to fill in the gaps where she could.

It was humiliating. Definitely more humiliating than when he’d witnessed me bikini clad at the pumpkin bash. _ Less _ humiliating than our viral video. Still, I seemed to only embarrass myself around Peeta Mellark and was trying to take a step back for a bit.

Going to his major department unannounced and successfully adding _ stalking _to the list of reasons I wanted to die thinking about Peeta Mellark was not a step in the right direction. 

Not to mention that I was sure the promise of free food had lured in plenty of students on campus. Though much of the drama surrounding _ the video _ had ceased, being in a large crowd had the potential for things to get nasty again and I didn’t want to make Peeta any more uncomfortable than I already had. Especially if he was being graded for this. 

My hesitation was well warranted.

“Don’t make me go alone,” Delly whined. “I’m bored, too.”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “I better not.”

“Because of Peeta?” she guessed, frowning. Reluctantly, I nodded.

“There’s going to be so many people there, you might not even see him. Even if you do, I don’t think anyone cares half as much about the other night as you do.”

I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Subject change.”

“I wanted to ask...but I didn’t want to make you more upset,” she started, biting down on her lip with hesitancy. My eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“What?”

“Why did you call Peeta? I mean, you seemed to be getting along at _ Fright Night _ but I didn’t realize you guys were back in contact.”

“We’re not, really. We just ran into each other at _ Second Rebellion _ last week,” I shrugged like it hadn’t been the highlight of my day. “That sort of sparked contact again.”

Delly tried to hide her smile unsuccessfully.

“I was afraid to get in touch with any of you,” I continued defensively. Though I still owed Delly a proper thank you for the way she’d handled that night. She trusted me when I told her I hadn’t known about the brownie--something she didn’t have to do--and because only a few of us knew of the incident, she agreed that no one else needed to.

“Trust me, I remember the rules: no boys. Peeta and I aren’t...anything. We’re not even friends, I don’t think.”

She rolled her eyes at that and thankfully saved me some pride by not mentioning the fact that his sweatshirt had mysteriously made its way into my wardrobe. I shimmied out of it most mornings before she woke and slipped it on in the darkness just before bed, but I had a strong suspicion she’d seen it laying around the room.

But that didn’t mean anything. Him loaning me his jacket did nothing to lessen the confusion of our complicated relationship.

“_ No boys _ just means no hooking up with or dating boys,” Delly reiterated, holding a manicured finger up at me. “There’s no rule that says you can’t be _ friends _ with a boy. And maybe it’s not my business but you and Peeta seem like you’re kind of friends.”

“I ruined his life.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I was a major bitch.”

“Well, yeah,” Delly agreed, her blonde ringlets bouncing. “And probably a lot of people would find trouble being friends after something like that but...I don’t know, Kat. If he’s willing to try, I don’t think you ought to push him away.” 

I hummed thoughtfully, thinking over her words as I tapped my pen against the table top. 

She breathed out a large breath. “So you’re really not going to come with me?” 

“Fine, I’ll go.” I made a job of sighing as I gathered up my things, like I was doing her the world's biggest favor by agreeing. 

She had a point in that the event was publicly broadcast to all students. It wasn’t like I would be _ crashing _ the event by showing up. And, if a ton of students went, I didn’t explicitly have to visit Peeta’s booth. 

_ Just a quick visit. In and out. _

_ “Yes!” _ she squealed-- _ squealed _ \--and the bangles around her wrist jiggled as she clapped her hands together. “This will be fun. We don’t get to do many things together alone anymore...well, you don’t get to do much of _ anything _ anymore.”

“Thanks.”

She giggled unapologetically, and linked her arm around mine.

“I have to admit, going out has only been half as much fun without you. I can’t wait for your probation period to be over so we can party again.”

I missed Delly too. She was my first friend at Panem--the first person to give me the time of day, really. I was sure I had her to thank largely for my place in Theta Kappa, and it was her who had forced me out of the shell my father’s death created and helped me to be happy again.

When everything happened with the bet, I thought I’d lost her respect for good. It was such a hard thing to come by, and so easily damaged. Being roommates had helped to rekindle much of our broken bonds, but I still walked a very careful tightrope with her, not wanting to take chances.

Today, walking down the streets of campus arm in arm with Delly chatting aimlessly about everything that came to mind felt like old times.

  
  


The theme of the _ taste off _ was ‘Cuisine Around the World’ with each station representing a specific country. 

“Ohh, it’s like _ Epcot! _” Delly grinned. “Probably less drinking, though.”

“Probably,” I snorted, but had no idea. I’d never been to Disney World. 

The department was packed; clearly Delly wasn’t the only one who had heard of the taste off and immediately thought _ free food. _

The delicious aroma infiltrated into the hallway, where we were stopped to take part in a raffle as the entrance fee.

I scribbled my name down on a piece of paper and exchanged it for a map of the department layout and each food station with the represented country, student chefs and menus along with any potential allergies.

I scrolled through the list of names before my eyes settled about three quarters of the way down on SPAIN where the names _ Portia Meadows + Peeta Mellark _were scripted just below. 

“Anything striking your fancy?” Delly asked, browsing her own map. “My top three are Thai, German and Pacific. _ Oohh wait, _Indian.”

“Hmm,” I hummed, at least attempting to look over the other countries and stations.

“I have a feeling you’re craving something a little more..._ español.” _

I cast her an increasingly narrowed look that only made her grin widen.

“Maybe you can sample some tapas _ con carne de hombre.” _

“I don’t know what you said and I probably don’t want to.”

“Probably not,” she agreed. “So, once around the block then? Let’s not make it too obvious why we’re here.”

“Aren’t we here to taste food?” I asked and Delly gave me a proud smile and a little wink. 

“Great job, Katniss.”

“You’re an idiot.”

_ “Oooh look, _African cuisine!”

We tasted our way around the department, stopping at nearly every booth to sample the delicious looking platters laid out in front of each workstation. It reminded me of a festival, and for a moment I was transported back to the streets of Pittsburgh, walking carefree around the city in the middle of summer with Prim. 

The talent the student chefs had was outrageous. We stood amongst the small crowd that formed around the Japan station and watched as the wok burst into a flame of fire. The student moved expertly, adding veggies and rice into the mixture before serving up delicious entrees for everyone to try.

I grew anxious the closer we inched to the Spain booth. I didn’t know how he would take my being there and suddenly the whole thing felt like a bad idea. 

He hadn’t noticed me yet--we were still a good five stations away--but I could see him clearly as he moved around the station with fluidity a person his size shouldn’t possess. His arms looked strong under the rolled up sleeves of his smock and I watched him sprinkle something delicate into the boiling pot he used.

My impatience to make my presence known was growing. I felt like he should be able to sense my presence; feel the way my eyes were boring into his the closer we got, but he was intensely focused on his task and barely looked up as he worked.

“I’m just saying, you kind of copped out on this one.” It was his partner speaking; taunting the group next to them. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail of tight curls sticking through the back of her solid black baseball cap. “Isn’t Swiss food just cheesy German food?”

“Aren’t croquettes just Spanish corn dogs?” A tall girl at the Switzerland booth shot back, making her own partner snicker. 

“Hey. Don’t disrespect my heritage like that.”

“_17% _ of your heritage, according to _ 23andMe.” _

The girl, Portia I assumed, smacked Peeta’s arm with a look of indignation that made him chuckle.

_ “You told her?” _

“Sorry.” He didn’t sound the least bit sorry as he said it, which made me smile.

“Hey, Peeta.” Delly walked casually up to his booth with a wide smile that forced me to trail behind her.

He looked up at the sound of his name, expression changing from curious to nonplussed in the span of a moment as his eyes flickered from Delly to me. 

“H-hey,” he stammered, caught off guard. Immediately, we had the attention of both his partner and the team from Switzerland. “What are you guys doing here?”

“I figured this is the closest I’ll get to traveling abroad for the next ten years,” she teased. “That, and I was really hungry.”

“You definitely came to the right place, then,” he smiled, wiping his hands off on a towel. He turned his back to us, fixating on one of the skillets sizzling behind him. 

“Everything has been delicious, so don’t disappoint.”

“Please,” Portia scoffed, leaning over the counter towards Delly on her tiptoes. She was petite and stunningly beautiful. 

Big brown eyes. Deep brown skin. Vibrant but understated makeup to highlight her best features, like her long eyelashes and full lips.

“When you leave our station, you’ll say: ‘_what other countries?’” _

“What are you making?” I asked and nearly winced at the deadpanned look she casted my way, as if she had just noticed me there. And knew exactly who I was.

She leaned back down off the counter and drifted across the workstation, to where she stood before.

“Croquettes with ham, _pa__n con tomate, _and seafood paella with clams, calamari and shrimp. You’re not allergic to shellfish, right?”

“No?”

She nodded, serving up two dishes before handing them over to us.

“Enjoy.”

Delly and I simultaneously took our first bites of paella and let out twinning noises of appreciation. 

“Okay, wow. Yeah this is good.” Delly nodded enthusiastically. “What did you say was in the paella, again?”

She moved closer to Portia as Peeta came back, oblivious to the odd interaction between me and his partnering chef. He worked on to keep the continuous stream of food bountiful, stealing casual looks up at me as he worked. 

“Good?” he asked curiously as I bit into the _ croquette-- _ basically a creamy ham-filled fritter...or otherwise referred to as _heaven_ from here forward.

“Incredible,” I moaned, butterflies dancing in my stomach as I watched a flush rise up through the collar of his shirt. I leaned in closer, and catching his eye mouthed; “ _ Orgasmic, _ even. _ ” _

His laughter was strained as he kept his hands busy at work. 

“I’m glad you approve.” 

I blew on my fork before bringing the next bite to my lips.

“It’s not weird I came, right?” 

He dropped his measuring spoons and looked up at me with wide, horrified eyes.

_ “What?” _

I bit my lip to keep from laughing, but was unsuccessful.

“To the _ taste off.” _ He let out a breath at the explanation, cheeks as red as the tomato spread across my bread. “I was trying to write this paper all afternoon and Delly caught me in the library and invited me to come. We haven’t hung out in awhile...I didn’t want to say no.”

Why was I talking so much? Did I want to tell him what I had for breakfast while I was at it? 

“It’s not weird,” he promised. “It was open to the public.”

_ Right. _

I smiled timidly, shifting on my feet.

“What paper were you working on?”

“You don’t want to know,” I groaned. “I’ll just say, the theme is _ dirt. _ So that right there should tell you how _ uninteresting _ the whole thing is.”

He frowned, apologetically. “Good news is that I think it’s been scientifically proven that snack breaks increase productivity when writing boring papers.” 

“Oh _ really?” _ I asked with exaggerated interest. 

“Yep. In fa--” His words were cut off by a beast of a man who practically pushed me out of the way as he stalked up to Peeta.

“Bro!” 

Peeta looked less than thrilled by his _ bro’s _ sudden appearance. 

The guy was tall, but not as tall as Peeta with a stocky build that hinted at many hours of heavy weight lifting and spiky blonde hair that was styled with too much gel. He was the kind of guy the girls in my sorority would go nuts over; objectively attractive with an intimidating personality.

“Pixie, good to see you again,” he greeted with a tip of his head. “Especially in a kitchen. Always good when a woman finds her place.” 

_ Oh, _and apparently he was a massive douche bag. 

“That’s a tired joke, but nice try, Cato,” she said with an unimpressed roll of her eyes. “And it’s _ Portia.” _

“Don’t get all pissy, I’m just messing with you,” he scoffed, turning his attention back to Peeta. He gave his arm a smack, the action causing him to bump into me again. I stumbled to the side a step to catch myself. 

_ “Dude,” _ Peeta said, eyebrows furrowed in irritation.

The giant twisted his neck to peer down at me, lip still upturned in amusement. I knew the moment recognition dawned on him and he looked between Peeta and I, figuring out who I was.

“No shit,” he laughed. “Hey, you’re that chick from the video.”

He had everyone in the general vicinity’s attention, including Portia’s, who stopped tensely to stare. I could feel heat creeping to my cheeks with his outburst and the food I was chewing turned to dirt.

“Man, you should’ve known something was up,” Cato berated Peeta with a snicker. Peeta looked just as ready for the situation to be over as I felt and I wondered if this was not the first time he’d suffered through similar conversations with this tool since _ the incident. _

“She’s a solid eight and a half.” Cato shook his head as if disappointed in him, and leaned over the counter. “Think we can agree that’s one scale you hit low numbers on, huh big guy?” 

I felt my teeth grind behind a clenched jaw.

My attention darted between the two of them, body rigid as I waited to gauge Peeta’s reaction to the rude comment.

It came as an absolute shock when Peeta laughed the comment off, making a quiet quip of his own that broke the tension clinging to the air. His gaze shifted to me, and I could see that the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes, even as Cato continued on with the banter.

Something in his look told me that interjecting would only make things worse. I bit down hard on my tongue to keep silent. 

“Cato, your massive body is blocking our booth. If you’re not here for the food, keep it moving,” Portia bit, shooing him away with the brush of her hands. As he moved, her eyes landed on me and hardened. “That goes for _ anyone _ who isn’t eating.”

“We should get going, anyways,” Delly said, looking towards me. “Still have other booths to taste and I have to meet Thresh in thirty.”

I nodded, tossing my garbage in the trash can before turning to Peeta. His head was tilted down, fixated on the food preparation in front of him, lips pressed in a hard line, eyes hidden behind the brim of his hat.

“Bye, Peeta.”

His eyes didn’t quite meet mine as he looked up.

“Bye, Katniss.”

“Thanks again. For the food. It was so good.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

I gave him a quick wave goodbye before adding, “I hope practice goes well.” 

“Thanks,” he and Cato said in unison. The scowl Peeta unknowingly shot him was jocular. For a boy so even keeled, it was refreshing to see something finally bother him. Even if it also bothered me.

To Delly’s credit, she didn’t bring up the awkward encounter. Even after we slipped out of earshot from the booth, she kept conversation light and steered clear of bringing Peeta up all together. 

When I asked what her and Thresh were doing later, she barely paused for breath. I tried following along but couldn’t keep my mind from drifting back to a different boy.

“Thanks for making me come out this afternoon,” I told Delly once we’d finished wandering the culinary department and made our way back to the beginning. “I needed it.”

“I could tell. You know, you’re not as difficult to read as you would like to believe, Katniss.”

I gave her a quick hug and wished her luck on her evening out before starting in the opposite direction of her, back towards the Theta house. I hadn’t made it out of the culinary building yet when I heard my name being called out down the hallway.

Turning, it wasn’t all that surprising to see Cato jogging closer. He slowed the closer he got to me, not appearing all that winded when he finally stopped. I folded my arms over my chest, eyebrow quirked as I waited, expecting that maybe he had come to apologize for being an asshole. 

“What’s up?” he said, instead. My skepticism grew. 

“Nothing,” I started, slowly. “Going home.”

“Cool. I’ll walk with you.”

I shifted my bag on my shoulder uncomfortably. 

“No, you won’t. Thanks.”

His toothy grin was perfectly straight. I was sure he had dazzled many girls with a flash of it. It just flamed my irritation. I wasn’t intimidated or impressed by his presence, try as hard as he might. I was skilled in handling my own against douchebags and this one seemed to be lacking a few brain cells on top of everything. All brawn. 

“What’s the deal with you and Mellark?” he asked. “You guys friends?”

“Are you?” I shot back. I couldn’t get a read on his and Peeta’s relationship. While it was clear his jokes were intended to embarrass or infuriated the person they were directed at, he seemed to think their banter was mutual. All fun and games. But, Peeta’s discomfort at his presence spoke to something else.

“We’re on the team together.” He waited for me to giggle or fawn over him for being a football player, and frowned when I didn’t. “I play defense, though. That’s where all the_ hard work _ is.”

My silence made him fidget.

“You know, between you and me, that shit you pulled at the party was mad funny.” He laughed low, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, like the viral video was a personal joke between the two of us.

I reared away from him and shot a look of disgust that would be far more intimidating if I didn’t have to crane my neck up to properly glare.

“Excuse me?”

“Mellark is a pussy. He was kind of asking for something like this to happen.”

“He wasn’t--” I cut myself off with a low growl, really not wanting to get into this with this dude, but also not willing to let it go. 

“If you’re looking for someone to laugh about that night with, keep searching, because it’s not me. I took Peeta upstairs because I _ wanted _ to be with him and that’s the one thing of that entire night that I don’t regret.”

He stared back at me, dumbfounded.

“And, _between you and me,” _I mockingly whispered, shifting closer to him. “He’s a really good fucking kisser.”

Cato’s naturally hooded eyes widened and for the first time, his cocky smirk was wiped away. His chest puffed, defensively and his pale skin flushed an irritated shade of red. 

“Whatever. I was just joking, bitch. Lighten up.”

He whipped around in a gust, brushing past me on his way out the main doors, leaving a deafening silence in his wake. 

I turned at the sound of footsteps behind me to see Portia stepping out from around the corner. She was walking briskly back towards the main doors of the culinary department, trying to slip away before I caught sight of her, it appeared. I couldn’t blame her. I wouldn’t have wanted to make myself known in such an awkward conversation, either.

“Wait…” Instantly she stopped in her tracks. I saw her shoulders fall with a sigh before she turned back to study me carefully.

“Sorry.” Her voice was clipped, unapologetic. “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.”

“I’m glad you did. That guy is a creep,” I said, jabbing a thumb over my shoulder towards the doors Cato stalked out from. 

Her smile was too tight to be sincere. She brushed a hand over her slicked back hair and studied me a long moment before chancing a step forward. Her oversized chefs jacket hung open, revealing a tight black tank top that showed her figure off nicely and matching ankle pants. 

“Why did you do that?” she asked, “Defend Peeta, I mean?”

“Because...Cato is a dick,” I muttered and Portia snorted with an agreeing nod. I fiddled with the scarf around my neck, nervously taking a step closer to her. “Does he “joke” like that a lot?”

I didn’t like asking her for information that I clearly didn’t know myself. Didn’t like the idea that Peeta might’ve shared intimate details of how he’d been handling things since _ the incident _ with this cute, attractive girl he spent so much time with. But, it was a possibility nonetheless.

“He’s not above being an asshole in the name of _ fun,” _ she confirmed with mocking air quotes around the word. She gave a roll of her eyes. “He’s given Peeta a lot of hell the past few months.” 

Since _ the incident _, I’d focused a lot on what everyone had been thinking about me. It felt like the entire campus was in agreement: I was the bitch and Peeta, the angel. I hadn’t stopped to consider what types of torment the video had subjected Peeta to until he mentioned it on our jog. Still, his answers were so vague, laced with indifference, even, that I hadn’t figured he’d suffered too badly.

Watching Cato tease so brazenly today, and hearing Portia describe it as _ hell _ made me think twice.

“There’s definitely a double standard between guys and girls who get bullied,” Portia said in her only hint of elaboration. And there was that word again. _ Bully. _ I’d _ bullied _ Peeta. It made my throat dry and itchy. “Both suck, but in different ways.”

I swallowed with a stiff nod.

“So, did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” 

“What you said to Cato...that you _ wanted _ to make out with Peeta?” 

His name was a recipe on her lips. A dash of possessiveness and a hint of intimacy. Several spoonfuls of challenge. Held all together behind fake sweetness to her tone.

I hesitated to answer. The question was a test, that much was obvious, but I didn’t know Portia nearly well enough to know what she would do with the information. It was a conversation no one was meant to hear. One definitely not meant to get back to Peeta directly. The last thing I needed was for him to think I was arguing with people and defending him. Like he needed the defending. Like he was too much of a pansy to handle things himself.

But, pride and reason were in the biggest of wars. And just as Portia’s disguise of staking some claim on Peeta was thinly veiled, jealousy wanted to make mine known as well.

I nodded, measuring her response with the slight confirmation, but she wore her poker face remarkably well.

“Please, don’t tell Peeta, though,” I begged, quietly. Everything between us was like walking a fragile tightrope and I was terrified that the slightest push off center would knock us off all together. 

“Sure,” Portia answered, shifting on her toes. 

“Thank you.”

“It’s not for you,” she explained, quick. Already, she was starting to turn away from me, effectively ending the conversation. “I’m just not in the business of embarrassing people for entertainment.” 

Oh. Okay.

So, it was like that, then. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays to everyone who celebrates. Hope you enjoy your time however you choose to spend it!


	9. November 10-13

* * *

_I've told a million lies, _

_but now I tell a single truth:_

_ there's you in everything I do._

-Imagine Dragons

* * *

_ Peeta (8:45am): _Are you awake?

**Me (8:46am): **I am now, lol. What’s up?

_ Peeta (8:46am): _Oops. Sorry.

_ Peeta (8:46am): _Want to go for a jog?

**Me (8:48am): **Meet you in 15? 

Despite the frigid temperatures, the weather was fairly pleasant. No snow had fallen over the weekend and the sun peeking out beyond the clouds helped to melt some of what clung to the ground. 

I didn’t bother waking Delly up to tell her of the plans I had with Peeta. She would soon realize I was gone and likely assume. Or just find out once I got back. Instead, I quickly changed into a pair of long leggings and slipped a puffer vest over the top of my thermal shirt. 

Peeta had yet again beat me to the path. When I made my way over to him, he was already stretching his arms and legs out.

We didn’t waste much time before breaking out into a brisk but easily maintainable jog. For a few minutes, the only sounds were that of the gravel crunching below our feet and our breath coming out in small puffs of visible air ahead of us. 

“So, um, what are your plans for the week?” Peeta cut through the silence to ask, startling me with his seemingly random question. 

I peered up at him as we jogged, pushing hair out from my face to gauge his expression. His eyes shifted beneath my scrutiny and he ran a hand over the top of his head to busy himself as he waited for my reply.

“I don’t have much going on,” I answered, smoothly...keeping it vague to see if he’ll elaborate. “Just studying, I guess. I have to meet my group on Tuesday night...this time at the _ library. _Thursday I usually do cycling.”

“Do you have plans on Wednesday?”

My accelerated heart rate had nothing to do with our current exercise. 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

He nodded, staring straight ahead at the path as we continued. I wanted to reach over and smack him. Really?_ A nod? _Nothing else? He was going to kill me…

“Do _ you?” _ I hedged, watching his Adam’s apple bob. 

“My roommates are having a party.”

My eyebrows rose, curiosity piqued. Peeta, frustrating man that he was, stalled.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I was wondering if you wanted to come.” The words rushed out of him in one breath and I nearly tripped over my own feet. 

Thus far, it felt like primarily me initiating and setting up situations in which Peeta and I would see each other. Yes, he’d been a willing participant, but he hadn’t ever taken direct steps to setting up a time or place for us to hang out until this morning when he invited me on the jog.

Now this? 

It was a simple invitation to his apartment. From the sound of it, a lot of people would be there, not just us too. But it felt like a huge step in the direction I’d been craving.

_ With just one pesky problem standing in the way. _

“That sounds fun,” I started, and he seemed relieved that I thought so, offering a nervous smile in agreement. “You said it’s on Wednesday?”

“Yeah, this coming Wednesday.”

“I know that chances are this isn’t a midweek rager, but I have to ask because I’m still on probation. How big of a party are we talking?” 

“Right, probation. I forgot.” He frowned. “Dinner party would’ve been a more appropriate word. It’ll be ten people, maximum.”

Dinner party? The girls at Theta Kappa Phi were definitely familiar with those. We’d had plenty of dinner parties in my few years, usually when parents were in town or we were hosting alumni for a weekend. There was absolutely nothing wild and out of control about a _ dinner party. _

“Sounds fancy,” I teased, earning a laugh from him.

“It was Gale’s girlfriends idea,” he explained. “She’s the classy one. We’re still training.”

So girlfriends were going to be there, then? A dinner party was intimate, for sure. Not something you handed out random invitations to. Peeta, plus his roommates and their girlfriends made five. Add me in and that left just four others. _ At most. _I could barely keep my excitement at bay.

“It will be nice to meet her.” Officially. Fully clothed. 

Peeta agreed with the tip of his head.

“Yeah, you’ll get to meet Madge and Annie both. Portia will be there, too, I’m pretty sure. Remember her from the taste off?”

That brought me up short.

I felt like an anchor had been tied around my waist and tossed into the ocean. 

Not surprisingly, the emotions sprung up on my face and I saw Peeta’s expression change in confusion at my intensity. Quickly, I fixed a neutral smile to my lips.

“That’s cool.” Even I could hear the force that it took to expel the words between clenched teeth. Hopefully, he would chalk it up to our jogging. “Yeah, I should be able to make it. Just need to run it by the girls, first.”

“Okay,” he smiled, wide enough that it showed off his dimples beneath the blonde facial hair. His nose was pink from the cold air, hands rubbing together for friction before he blew into them. I was pathetically transfixed on every single little movement he made.

“I guess I don’t need to give you my address, then?”

I groaned, burying my head into my hands for a moment which only added to his amusement. My burning cheeks had nothing to do with the windchill.

“Please don’t remind me that in the not so distant past I was a stalker.”

“At least you’ll get to see the inside this time.” His face took on feigned suspicion. “Unless you already _ have.” _

“I didn’t!” I insisted, which only made him laugh. I rolled my eyes, secretly loving the banter between the two of us. “What time?”

“Six.”

“What can I bring?”

“Just yourself. Portia and I are cooking.”

Portia and him. 

_ Portia. _

The mere reminder that she would be there soured my mood. I tried my hardest to play it off.

“You two seem close.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We’ve been culinary partners since last year.”

“I’m sure you spend a lot of time together.”

“We do,” he confirmed. “You have to be on the same page in the kitchen. That takes a lot of work and practice. Last year especially, when we were still getting used to each other, required a lot of practice outside of class.”

Ugh, why did that sound so awful? I could just picture their teasing banter in the privacy of his kitchen. Hips bumping, fingers brushing. Her, leaning up on her tiptoes to wipe a bit of flour from the bridge of his nose. Him, clearing a space on the counter to pick her up and--

Nope. Not a good road to travel down. 

Jealousy was not a cute look. I refused to be the insecure girl who didn’t want her boyfriend--erm, _ potential _boyfriend--to have friends of the opposite gender. First of all, it was hypocritical with as much as I hung out with the Lambda boys, and secondly it was embarrassing.

The only competition I was going to be in was with myself.

_ Keep telling yourself that. _

At least, _ try. _

“That sounds like a lot of fun…” 

My fake sweetness escaped Peeta’s notice as he continued to talk about his culinary program and soon I was so swept up in the passion his tone held and the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about it that _ Portia _was the very last thing on my mind.

* * *

I didn’t see Peeta again before Wednesday. It was just two days, but it might as well have been a month for how it felt. I went through the motions of school and work lifelessly, the only saving grace being the impending dinner party and my endless daydreams about it.

I approached Delly and Cashmere right after I got back from the jog to ask about the dinner party, figuring it was best to give both them and also Peeta notice, in case they said I couldn’t go.

Admittedly, I’d stretched the truth a bit when asking, claiming that we had plans to study and his roommates were having people over. Still, they both agreed that it was a small enough group that the event would be tame. And while I saw definite confusion flash in Cashmere’s eyes at the mention of Peeta, Delly couldn’t have looked more thrilled. 

She held it together until we were back in our bedroom and the door was shut tightly behind us. 

“Spill.”

I feigned ignorance, folding my newly laundered clothes with my back turned to her. I could practically feel the intensity of her gaze boring into my back and wasn’t at all surprised to find her staring when I looked over my shoulder. 

“Hmm?”

“How did this happen?” she insisted.

It didn’t take much to crack me, and once she had I was sparing no detail as I recalled the events leading up to his dinner party invite. Delly listened with great interest--always a good audience when it came to _ boys-- _and gave a small squeal of delight as I finished.

It was nice to have somebody to share with. Crazy or not, Delly was fun and easy to talk to. She made the butterflies that erupted in my stomach at the mere thought of Peeta intensify.

I’d been a mess since Sunday.

Studying? What the hell is that?

Theta Kappa who?

Food? Who needed it?

It was mildly alarming but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this _ happy. _I’d woken up every morning this week with a smile on my face, his sweatshirt on my body and a text from him on my phone.

“I wouldn’t worry yourself over Portia.” Delly said her name with familiarity, like perhaps she had inadvertently hung out with her as an extension through Peeta. “They’ve known each other long enough now that if something was going to happen, it would’ve already happened.”

She made a good point. Peeta was single, and judging by the way Portia acted around him, I was assuming she was free too. They spent plenty of time together, according to him, and she was beautiful. So, if there was mutual attraction there, someone would’ve acted already.

Now I just needed to repeat that to myself twenty more times before the evening. 

+++

If there was one thing I learned from Theta, it was that _ manners mattered. _

Theta’s were always on time to obligations and arrangements. Never early and never late. And never did one showed up to an invitation empty handed. 

I’d started getting ready for the evening after my last class of the day. Changed twice, unable to decide between dressy or casual before finally landing somewhere in the middle. Did my hair and repainted my nails...like anyone was going to notice...and then went to the store to pick up two bottles of wine. One white, one red.

“Remember curfew,” Cashmere reminded me on my way out the door. 

Weeknight curfew was 1am. That wouldn’t be a problem.

The walk to Peeta’s apartment was embarrassingly familiar. He lived just a few blocks away from the Theta house, an easy ten minute walk, which blew my mind each time I thought about it. We had shared a school, shared friends and were practically neighbors and yet for two years I had no idea who he was. So close and yet he might as well have been hundreds of miles away.

The sky had gone from deep gray to black on the walk over, and I was thankful for the bright street lamps and still bustling streets as I approached.

There were three narrow steps up to the main door of his building and then a keypad with eighteen different apartment numbers to ring for. I selected Peeta’s and heard the answering buzz while I waited to be let in. I took two flights of stairs up to his floor, expecting to see his head leaning out the door, waiting for me.

No such luck. The door was closed. Same one I’d knocked on before. Inside, I could hear voices and laughter which only served to increase my anxiety. 

What had I been thinking? Accepting an invite to hang out with Peeta was one thing, but one to hang out with his buddies who did nothing to hide their despise for me was another. Clearly, I’d only been thinking about the former. 

Before I could chicken out, I gave the door a hard knock and took a deep breath.

It wasn’t Peeta who answered the door, but Finnick. His easy going smile dropped a little when he realized it was me; the way ice cream melted in the sun--a slow decline. He schooled his look to one of indifference; not hatred filled but not exactly welcoming either. I hesitated in the doorway, bringing a shaky smile to my lips.

“Hi.”

“Hey...” he replied back cautiously.

“Peeta invited me.” Had he not told them? 

“Cool,” he said, pushing the door back and letting me in. That’s it? I regarded him with suspicion, stepping out of the hallway and into the apartment.

It was...not your average college student apartment. But that much I had sort of come to expect by now. The front door led you right into the kitchen. It was open plan, with high cabinets and stainless steel appliances. The long counter wrapped into an L shape and there was an added breakfast bar behind the sink, where stools were neatly tucked in. 

On the wall, right in line with both the stove and breakfast bar--so that it apparently didn’t matter whether you were cooking _ or _ eating, there was a television, which was currently turned off.

It was open plan, with the living room just beyond the kitchen, where most of the other guests were. A large but simple leather couch rested back against the wall with a coffee table pushed in front of it. Along the table, several finger foods were already spread out. 

The furthest wall to the right of the couch was made up of huge glass windows which stretched up the large wall, all the way to the loft upstairs.

It put Theta to shame, which was saying something. It wasn’t often I was jealous of someone else's set up on campus. 

“Katniss, hey.”

Immediately I relaxed at the sound of Peeta’s voice. He came from around the corner, passing the stairs and looping into the kitchen where Finnick and I awkwardly stood.

“Hey back.” I shrugged out of my jacket, thanking Peeta quietly as he reached out for it to hang up. 

“Um...I brought wine.” I thrust the bags out towards them nervously. They both flinched at the suddenness of my movement and Finnick quietly muttered something about being more of a beer person as he turned to walk away.

“Thanks,” Peeta replied, taking the bags. “I told you to just bring yourself.”

I shrugged innocently, following him like a lost puppy into the kitchen. Finnick had retreated back to the living room. He stood with his back to me, one thickly muscular arm draped around a girl, the other fisting his beer.

“We should put those in ice,” Peeta said of the wine, reverting my attention back in the kitchen. He scooped ice into a big bowl before placing the bottles inside. 

“Can I get you anything? A drink? Snacks are in the living room.” He motioned with a wave of his hand before sticking them back in his pocket.

“I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Okay,” he agreed, easily. “Want me to introduce you to everyone?” 

I felt anxiety creeping into my system. It felt like I was moments away from a repeated experience of the night at Sae’s with all of his friends, only this time I wasn’t sure that I would be able to stomach it. Peeta must’ve sensed my hesitation because his eyebrows pinched and he looked at me thoughtfully.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. Swallowed. Then finally admitted, “Nervous.” 

“About what?” He seemed genuinely confused, as if I’d have nothing at all to be worried about. Like life was one big cloud of awesome that I rode on.

I understood why he thought it. From the outside looking in, my life _ was _ one big party. One big joke. It felt like the joke was finally reversing on me.

“Your friends hate me,” I whispered. _ With good reason. _

“They don’t hate you.”

_ “Peeta.” _

_ “Katniss.” _

I openly gaped at him.

“Did you just _ sass _ me?” Sweet, composed Peeta said my name with all the finesse of a thirteen year old boy. At being called out, he shared my laughter but unable to help his ears from turning pink.

“Don’t worry about them,” he spoke, reassuringly. “We’re friends.”

The word got caught in his throat and he cleared it.

“They’ll have to get used to you being around.”

“We’re friends?” I clarified, because although it felt that way, neither of us had ever actually said it out loud. Peeta looked mildly alarmed by my question. 

“Aren’t we?”

“Yes.”

I liked the sound of that. With a smile, I decided to approach the evening with a new attitude, one that promised to turn their opinion around by the end of the night.

Maybe not the end of the night. I could be a kiss ass, but unless I was on my knees blowing them I wasn’t sure a couple hours one evening was going to be enough to sway their opinions of me. And that would just be bad manners. 

Either way, progress would be made. 

“Annie, Madge.” 

I stiffened as Peeta beckoned two girls from living room over to where we stood in the kitchen. 

“This is Katniss.” 

Standing beside each other, the girls were contradictions. Annie; tall and poised with alluring dark hair tucked back into a low bun and a porcelain face, free from blemish. Madge, with hidden freckles behind a thick pair of glasses and loose blonde waves that brushed her shoulders.

Both of them were cute. Neither of them were what I would at all picture Finnick or Gale going for.

“Hi,” I greeted, lamely sticking my hand out for them to shake. I felt stupid as they each accepted it.

“Nice to meet you Katniss,” Madge smiled, either sparing me the embarrassment of bringing up the morning I’d dropped Peeta’s money off, or having forgotten the encounter. She eyed the counter behind me, where the wine sat in a bucket of ice and motioned to it with a tip of her head.

“Can we break open the wine?” she asked, smirking mischievously as she stepped around the counter to examine the bottle. “I don’t drink beer...not that any of _ them _ seem to care.”

“Ouch,” Peeta chuckled, feigning hurt when Madge only shrugged.

“I’m just saying, in all of the times I’ve been over here, this is the first I’ve seen wine on the menu.”

“Katniss brought it.” Peeta quickly gave me the credit before nudging my elbow lightly with his own. “I told you we were still training.”

I chuckled lowly, pleased to be in the company of this relaxed, more composed Peeta. With his friends nearby, he was charismatic and fun; the old personality that I’d barely gotten a taste of before and was every so often allowed to experience in small doses. 

He helped unfasten the cork and left us to pour our own glasses before Annie and Madge invited me over to the couch with them; closer to the snacks, as they explained. 

I cast an anxious look in Peeta’s direction. It felt weird abandoning him in his own house. It would be far too easy to cling to his side for the remainder of the night. But he was quick to send me off in the company of the girls, claiming he was just going to get dinner started before he would be out to join us. 

“So, Katniss. What’s your major?” Madge asked, taking a casual sip of wine.

“Environmental Science,” I replied, unable to relax on the couch.

“Fascinating,” she said, like she genuinely meant it. I smiled at the way her eyes lit up with the conversation and how she leaned forward in her seat. “What does a degree like that get you?” 

“More than likely a job working for the government in federal or state land management. Or, if I focus on the wildlife aspect of the degree, I could go into wildlife biology.”

“I love learning people’s majors,” Madge grinned. “It explains so much.”

“Does it?” I asked with furrowed eyebrows. Madge only nodded, pressing her glasses further up the bridge of her nose.

“Take Peeta, for instance. He’s a culinary major...but I’m sure you already knew that. Anyways, it makes complete sense on a deeper level than just food. He’s a thinker, a problem solver and isn’t creating and interpreting recipes a little bit like solving a puzzle? You have all of these pieces and together they make something great. It takes both creativity and intellect to be a chef.”

“And let me guess, you’re a psych major?” I asked, only half joking. It got a smirk out of Annie, at least.

“I wish,” Madge sighed, wistfully. “The brain is so interesting, but I think my parents would flip. I’m pre-med.”

She said it with a shrug, as if it were the most casual major on campus, and took another sip of her wine.

“And you, Annie?” I asked to be polite. She was more soft spoken than Madge, content to sit quietly and listen rather than interject.

“Performance Dance.”

“Wow, really?” I could’ve kicked myself for the reaction. It was the same one most people had when they heard my major. A mixture of confusion and intrigue. But I’d thought of most dance programs being located in L.A. or New York, not smack dab in the middle of Wisconsin. 

She nodded shyly. _ So shy. _Opposite from her larger than life boyfriend, who did choreographed touchdown dances with offense in the end zone. A pair like the two of them felt as bizarre as Peeta and I. 

“How did you and Finnick meet?” I asked her before I could stop myself. As if he heard his name across the room, Finnick turned to cast a curious glance our way before directing his attention back to the television. 

“I was his tutor.”

“His _ dance _ tutor,” Madge interrupted with a giggle. 

“Dance tutor?”

“He was injured in the middle of the football season last year,” Annie went onto explain.“He got sacked on the field and some of the guys on the other team played dirty. Ended up tearing his ACL.”

“That’s awful,” I frowned, casting a glance in his direction. 

“After the surgery and physical therapy, his coach thought it would be a good idea for him to take some ballet and improve his flexibility. My instructor suggested me,” Annie said quietly. 

“And you hit it off?” I supplied, finishing the story. Annie’s nose wrinkled and her perfect little face twisted like she’d sucked on something sour.

“No. I actually didn’t like him,” she admitted, bashfully. “I thought he was full of himself. And intimidating. But...he grew on me.”

“Hmm,” I hummed, thoughtfully. I kind of liked the story better that way, actually.

“So how long have you and Peeta been going out?” Madge asked. I flushed at the accusation and gripped the glass in my hand tighter. Seeming to realize my discomfort, Madge’s eyes widened and a look of embarrassment crossed her face.

“Oh. Sorry. I guess I just assumed…”

“It’s fine. But, we’re just friends.” 

_ Friends. _It felt like the wrong adjective. But for now, that was the truth. And it was a lot more than I could’ve hoped for a month ago. 

“If you say so,” Madge observed, stroking her chin thoughtfully.

“You’re projecting,” Annie told her. 

“Maybe so. But, I’ve been with Gale for a year now and I’ve known Peeta just as long. He’s never smiled at _ me _ that way before. Just saying.”

She tipped her head in his general direction and when we all three turned to look at him, we caught his gaze from where he stood in the kitchen. Caught, he flushed and turned to look away, busying himself with chopping vegetables. But, I hadn’t missed the smile painting his lips before he had the chance to look away.

_ For me? _

“I’m sure you all know what happened between the two of us,” I muttered, not wanting the elephant in the room to become insufferable.

Madge peered guilty at her wine glass and quiet Annie refused to meet my gaze. Yeah, of course they had. 

“At the party,” I finished, so there was no mistaking what I was referring.

“I may have heard a rumor, but I don’t like to gossip about my friends,” Annie spoke with a shrug of her shoulders, clearly speaking of Peeta.

“Yeah, and I’m not real keen on judging before I have all of the details,” Madge said. “Social media tends to distort the truth sometimes. You have to take it with a grain of salt.”

I wished for that to be true in my case. While the whole thing had been made into a far larger deal than I’d intended for it to, I couldn’t in good faith say that it had been _ distorted. _What happened was accurate. It just wasn’t supposed to be broadcast to the entire campus.

“In this case you can believe it,” I sighed, feeling absolutely sick. How many times would I need to apologize for this mistake? How far would this whole situation follow me?

“Everything from the video was true. It was a joke. A _ horrible _ one. One I regretted, even before that moment. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but...I did it.”

The girls stayed silent a breath and then Madge sighed.

“We all make mistakes. Some bigger than others. But, if Peeta has forgiven you--which _obviously he has _since you’re sitting in his living room--then I don’t see how it’s anyone else's place to not.”

There was a buzz from the front door and Peeta hit the button to allow the person at the entrance to come in. A minute later, Portia crossed the threshold.

Her wild curls were worn down, not one of them misplaced and when she smiled, she was the kind of beautiful that hit you in an instant, making everyone in the room turn for an extra glance. 

Peeta took her coat and she wrapped her arms around him in a familiar embrace before following him into the kitchen. I watched him pour her a glass of wine. Watched her bump his hip as they shared a laugh.

“Ohh, I didn’t know Portia was coming,” Madge beamed, and I didn’t know whether or not I had a right to feel annoyed that the girls knew who she was.

_ Of course they did. _She moved around the apartment with familiarity; like she had been inside of it several times already.

How stupid could I be, really? To sit there and entertain ideas with these girls I’d just met about Peeta and I? To prance around my bedroom ridiculously this afternoon over a simple invitation. He told me himself tonight that we were just friends. _ Friends. _And even that must’ve been a large step for him.

“Have you met Portia?”

“Unofficially.”

“We’ll introduce you,” Annie insisted, pulling me up off of the couch. “You’re in for a real treat tonight. Those two create magic in the kitchen.” 

_ That was what I was afraid of. _

I ground my teeth together. 

“I can’t wait.”

Portia took a double take as we approached, eyes landing on me. Her lips pulled up into a forced smile as she exchanged hugs with Madge and Annie before turning back to me. 

“Hi,” I tried keeping my tone pleasant, hoping she couldn’t the mix of nerves and irritation that welled inside of me. If she did, she masked it well.

“Hello, again.” 

“Sorry. I didn’t introduce you two last week,” Peeta said, wiping his hands on a towel. “Portia, this is Katniss. Katniss, Portia.”

“I remember,” I promised. “Good to see you again.” 

“You’re in that sorority, right?” she asked, like she didn’t already know the answer. I could practically feel superiority drip off her small body as she tried frazzling me.

“I’m in_ a _sorority, yes. Theta Kappa Phi.”

“I’m sure you have loads of fun,_ ” _ Her tone was bright, but I’m positive that I hadn’t made up the hint of accusation that lay there. Or maybe I was just looking for reasons to dislike her. “Probably doesn’t leave much time for studying, though.”

“I manage.”

“Peeta, what did you do with those vegetables?” she asked, turning her attention away from me. “I think it’s time to sauté them.”

“They’re right here.”

“Um, where is the bathroom?” I asked.

“Down the hall and to the left,” Portia replied before Peeta could, and I had to bite my tongue to keep the snarky comment building up from coming out. She might as well pee on his leg, she was trying so hard to make sure everyone knew he was _ hers. _

“I’ll show you,” Peeta insisted, slipping past Portia to guide me to the bathroom.

When we turned the hallway, away from her prying eyes, I felt my tension ease up a bit. 

“I’m still waiting for my grand tour,” I teased. “If your sous-chef can stand to lose you for a few minutes.”

“Sure.” He smiled and held a hand out for me to pass him up the staircase leading to the loft.

I wasn’t sure what I expected to be up there, but was surprised by how big it was. There was a railing that overlooked the living room below and another couch and television with gaming systems and controls. And a mini fridge.

“Nice,” I joked, peering inside at the sodas. 

“You know, sometimes it’s just too much work to go down twelve stairs.”

“And back up,” I reminded him, making him grin.

“Exactly. Why waste valuable time?”

“You’re thinking ahead.”

“Credit where credit’s due: was Gale’s idea,” he admitted. “But I didn’t hate it.”

We went back downstairs and hung a left. Peeta flicked on a light leading up the hallway, where four doors sat, all closed.

“This is Gale’s room,” he said, giving the door a knock as we passed. “And Finnick’s.”

He motioned to Finnick’s room and then opened the third door, leaning back to let me look in.

“And mine.”

I turned the light on, casually walking in to observe. It was neat, with everything resting casually in its place.

The room was minimal, but everything had a spot. I ran my fingers across the spines of the books he had lining his shelf and noted the signed football that sat in a case on top of it. His desk was free from clutter; just his laptop and a cup of pens and a few notebooks rested on top.

His large bed was made up, a blue and green comforter covering its expanse with matching pillow cases that he felt inclined to tell me was a gift from his mom. Like having matching bedding was something to be embarrassed about.

I sat down on it, gliding my hands along the fabric and staring back at him. He watched me, a mixture of nerves and...what? Desire, maybe? At seeing me in his room on his bed. Hope? I couldn’t place it but when I smiled, he returned it with ease.

“I must say, you make apartment living look pretty nice.” I leaned back on his bed. “You have so much privacy. I’ve never had my own room.”

Prim and I shared back home before I started college. 

“No?”

“And you get your own bathroom. How fancy.”

“You can use mine if you want,” Peeta offered, seeming to remember the entire point of this field trip was to show me where the bathrooms were. “Or there’s one down the hall.”

“Thanks,” I smiled, heading for his. He lingered, awkwardly, unsure of whether or not he should stay before choosing to go.

“I’ll meet you out there.”

“I won’t be long.”

Keeping pace with his bedroom, his bathroom was well kept too and I wondered to myself if they had a house maid to top everything else off. No way this guy was so clean on his own…

The soap smelled like him; clean and masculine without being overbearing in its scent. I breathed it in easily as I washed my hands before shutting the light off and exiting the bedroom.

Just as I stepped into the hallway, Finnick was coming out of his own room and gave me a strange look to be in Peeta’s unaccompanied.

“I was using the bathroom,” I explained, quickly. “Peeta showed me.”

“Okay.”

I offered a smile that he didn’t return, but hesitated to walk by him as I noticed he wasn’t moving either. Just staring back at me with folded arms and an unsure expression.

I swallowed.

“Can I ask you a serious question?” he asked, eyes trained on me. I nodded slowly, heart pounding. He studied me a moment longer before exhaling his reply.

“What game are you playing?” 

The question took me aback so that I was left stunned into silence for a long moment.

“...Game?”

“Is this another joke? Are you going through some sort of sorority hazing?”

My cheeks flamed red as I regarded him and shook my head fiercely.

“No!”

“You can’t blame me for asking,” he shrugged. “Peeta is one of my best friends.”

“I know that.”

“And a really good dude.”

_ “I know.” _

“And there are girls that are actually interested and not just yanking his chain,” he motioned with his head towards the kitchen. Towards Portia.

“I’m not messing around with him,” I whispered.

“You’ll forgive me for not immediately trusting you.”

“I know what I did was bad. Really freaking awful but…”

“But what?” The challenging lilt to his tone dared me to finish. I swallowed heavily.

“I’m sorry.”

“Katniss?”

Peeta’s voice broke through the conversation and when I peered past Finnick, I met his confused eyes as they shifted between us. 

“Yeah, coming.” I slipped past Finnick with a forced smile, blinking away the tears I could feel forming and wishing there was a polite way to just leave. Confusion melted into concern as I stepped closer to Peeta, but he said nothing more than that dinner was ready, and turned to lead me back to the kitchen.

There was no denying the food was delicious. Everyone grabbed a plate and brought them into the living room, circling around the rectangular table easily. I followed suit, listening to their easy conversations and laughing politely at their inside jokes. 

After dinner, we buddied up to play a card game that required everyone be in teams of two. Wanting to _ shake things up, _Madge got the bright idea we should select partners at random...which was how I ended up with Gale. 

I couldn’t be too irritated. At least Portia wound up with Annie. 

The game was simple; you needed four of a kind to win. Everyone was dealt four cards each and the rest of the pile went to the dealer who would quickly look card by card and pass it down the line. When you found your four of a kind, you needed to signal to your partner in a way that wouldn’t be noticeable among everyone else. If you got caught, you lost. If you didn’t, and your partner called out your four of a kind, you won.

“Alright Catpiss, what’s our secret cue?” Gale asked. He insisted we walked over towards the front door, away from prying eyes and ears, to come up with our signal. 

And he insisted on calling me _ Catpiss _, still. 

I guess I should’ve just been glad he wasn’t cornering me in a dark hallway like Finnick.

“Um…I could pretend to itch my nose?”

“Too obvious,” he said, unimpressed. 

“I could rub my chin?”

“Let me explain something to you,” he said, clasping his hands together. “I’m a very competitive person. I don’t like to lose.”

“We have this in common.”

His eyebrows lifted a little in surprise and he nodded a moment later with acceptance. 

“I got it.” He snapped his fingers, a wicked smile crossing his face. He beckoned me closer, whispering into my ear and I matched his excitement.

“Perfect.”

I followed him back into the living room to rejoin the group. Madge and Peeta were partners, and she was practically biting her lip with held in excitement as she moved across the table from him and next to Gale. I took the free seat on the ground beside him.

“You have your signal?” he asked and I nodded.

“Yep, and it’s a good one.”

“I think it was a mistake letting you and Gale be partners. You’re both competitive.”

“We got this, Catpiss,” Gale said, shooting me a thumbs up.

_ “What _ did you just call her?” Madge smacked his arm, indignantly. 

“I’m not that competitive,” I told Peeta, ignoring Gale as I picked up my delt cards. 

“You’re a little competitive,” he laughed. “Remember trivia night?”

I tried not to. If he only knew how many hours I’d spent thinking about that night and if we hadn’t gone.

Glimmer would probably still be in Theta. Her and Clove would’ve never bet me money to embarrass Peeta and I never would’ve accepted. I wouldn’t be hated by more than half of the student body, including the majority of people sitting around the table right now. Wouldn’t spend most my nights lying awake thinking up alternative scenarios that didn’t land me where I was now.

But on the flip side...I would have never met Peeta.

An hour into the game, Gale and I had won three hands. The group was becoming increasingly frustrated trying to figure out our secret signal. It was simple; we just fanned our cards out slightly more when we had the four of a kind. The cue had the potential to be obvious, but both Gale and I had good poker faces and tricky fingers. No one noticed the difference besides the two of us.

Madge got mad and banned Gale from playing when he caught her trying to signal Peeta with a slight adjustment to her glasses.

“How did you know?” she gave his arm a hard punch that didn’t even make him wince. He was laughing, actually. “I’m always pushing my glasses up. I figured you’d just think it was a habit.” 

“Good try, babe,” he said, leaning over to place a kiss on top of her head. “Don’t feel bad, you put a good effort in.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I believe the word you’re looking for is _ genius.” _

Finnick returned to the table between rounds with a mug of tea that he lowered down in front of Annie’s face, catching her by surprise. She regarded the hot cup thoughtfully and I didn’t miss the way her lips twitched into a smile as she watched him settle back into the circle.

I’d been so wrong about them all. As the night stretched on, it became increasingly clear that these guys, despite their popularity and athletic capabilities...were just _ normal _dudes. They made stupid jokes, had hobbies outside of football, didn’t think too highly of themselves; at least among friends.

Gale looked at Madge like she was the best thing in the room when she got talking about biophysics and Finnick boasted about Annie getting cast in the Panem City Ballet’s production of _ The Nutcracker _ this Christmas. 

They were so...nice. Welcoming of Portia and their other guests. Not like the stereotypical meat heads I’d painted them as in my mind. The realization only made me feel worse.

The only douchebag in the room was me. And while we could sit around laughing and playing games all evening, I knew it was still what they were all thinking.

“Hate to be lame, but we need to turn in,” Finnick said, giving Annie a hand to help her to her feet. “Both have early practices.”

“I’ll get the dishes,” Peeta told him, waving off his efforts to clean up. 

“I’ll help,” I insisted.

“You’re a guest,” he reminded me, stacking the plates on top of each other on the table.

“Yeah, but I’m also a waitress. I’m really good at balancing breakable things. At least let me help you get everything in the kitchen.”

He allowed the temporary help, but once everything was piled into the sink he insisted that he would finish it later that night.

“Alright. Well, thanks for tonight. I had fun.”

“That’s good to hear,” Peeta said, relaxing. 

“Yeah, you’re not so bad, Catnip.”

“Don’t you mean, _ Catpiss?” _Why I was encouraging the moron, I had no clue.

“Madge informed me that I was being a dick,” he admitted, scrubbing a hand over his thick dark hair. “Besides, Catnip is more fitting, don’t you think?”

He was joking, but I still felt my cheeks flush. 

“_ Katniss is nicest,” _ Madge called from the other room.

“I’ll take whatever progress I can get,” I teased, counting Gale’s slight twitch of lips as a victory.

“Yeah, well, Madge liked talking with you...and I know what that means. She’ll want to hang out again. And that girl has a way of getting what she wants, always. So if we’re going to be seeing each other more, it’s best to keep things civil.”

“I agree,” I said, relief washing over me to have had a decent interaction with at least one of Peeta’s friends. The war might not be over, but one battle was. Still counted as a win.

“You were pretty cool tonight, Katniss,” he amended, and turned back into the apartment before I could say anything else. 

Peeta returned with my coat and held it open for me to get into. 

“How are you getting home?” he asked, regarding me carefully.

“My house isn’t too far from here. I’m just going to walk.”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“You don’t have to.” It was a futile argument. He was already stuffing his feet down into his boots. 

“It won’t take long.” 

He was right. A ten minute walk was barely a five minute ride by car. It felt like the moment we’d gotten into the car we were practically to the sorority house. 

Peeta was quiet, driving down the streets silently as my own thoughts raced around my mind, preoccupying me and adding to the energy. 

“Do you have class in the morning?” I asked, trying to relieve some of the tension and Peeta nodded.

“Practice?”

“Five thirty tomorrow morning,” he confirmed. “I have to run to class right after.”`

A glance at the clock told me it was already past eleven. 

“You won’t get much sleep.”

“That’s what coffee is for,” he teased and I caught his smile in the darkness when we passed by the street lamp. 

I smiled too, relaxing into the heated seat.

“Hey...so, was everything okay tonight? With you and Finnick, I mean. Earlier?”

I bit my tongue and turned to look out the window.

_ No, _ I wanted to say. _ It wasn’t. _

I was tempted to spill about the entire awkward conversation that had been at the forefront of my mind the entire night. I wanted to tell him everything, tell him I was sorry--_ again-- _and ask what I needed to do specifically to make it better.

But there was nothing I could do to make it better. As cliché as it was, truly the only thing that could fix my mess was time. Clearly, his friends needed more. 

Despite Peeta being the one person I wanted to talk about this all with, I held my tongue. Talking badly about his best friend probably wouldn’t get me any further along with him.

“He was just asking if I found the bathroom okay. I think it surprised him to see me coming out of your bedroom.”

He nodded, still thinking everything over.

“You looked upset.”

I shook my head; a feeble attempt to disagree.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Okay.” He hardly looked convinced. 

We pulled up in front of Theta and Peeta put the car into park. He waited until I was inside of the house to pull away down the street.

Delly was still up when I got home. She laid sprawled across her bed, painting her nails with green mud spread across the entirety of her face. 

“How was it?” I’d barely made it through the door before she asked. 

I fell down onto my bed dramatically, staring at her through the eye that wasn’t smushed against my pillow.

“Good?” she guessed. I couldn’t get a read on her tone because her face was cemented into place due to the mask, making even talking difficult.

I nodded.

“You don’t seem good,” she muttered.

“How long do you think it’ll take for forgiveness?” I asked, unprompted.

Delly closed her magazine and sighed through her nose before swinging her legs off her bed and crossing the room to join me on mine. She wrapped an arm around my back, letting it sling over me as we lay silently for a long moment.

“Did Peeta say something?”

“No. Finnick.”

“Oh.”

I closed my eyes, breathing into my pillow with a trapped sigh.

“Well, Peeta is his best friend,” she said, so quietly it was almost a whisper. “Sometimes, it’s harder to forgive wrongs against the people we love than it is to forgive wrongs against ourselves.”

She was right. If anyone did something to Prim like what I did to Peeta, I would be flying to Pittsburgh to kick their ass. Even my sorority sisters, who had become like campus family, were off-limits to douchey guys we met while out.

“How are you so smart?” I mumbled into my pillow and Delly gave my butt a firm smack.

“Not all beauty in here,” she said, tapping her forehead.

* * *

It was early in the morning--_ four thirty _ to be exact-- and I couldn’t sleep. I scrolled through Instagram, downloaded some new music, read a few chapters in my electronic book and still felt wide awake.

Peeta was probably up by now, too. Getting ready for practice.

**Me (4:32am):** Thanks again for the invitation last night.

It took mere seconds for the chat bubbles to appear at the bottom of the screen. 

_ Peeta (4:32am): _Why are you awake?

**Me (4:33am): **Studying.

A lie. I hated lying to him, even about trivial things, but the truth seemed too impossible to admit. 

_ Peeta (4:35am): _You should try to sleep, lol.

_ Peeta (4:35am): _But you’re welcome. You had fun? 

No.

Kind of.

** Me (4:36am):** Yes. 

_ Peeta (4:45am): _ So, listen. I was going to text you about this later, but since you’re up…

My heart nearly gave out as I waited.

_ Peeta (4:48am): _I asked Finnick what you guys were talking about in the hallway. He told me that he cornered you, and what he said. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. He’s a good friend, but that wasn’t his place to confront you. Especially when you’re at our apartment as a guest. 

** Me (4:48am): **Thanks. I understand, though.

_ Peeta (4:50am): _He’s just nervous I’m going to end up getting hurt.

** Me (4:51am): **I know. 

** Me (4:52am): **Are you? Nervous, I mean.

_ Peeta (4:55am): _ Yes. 

_ Peeta (4:57am): _But, it doesn’t mean I don’t want to be friends. 

There was that word again. _ Friends. _ The second time in twenty-four hours that he’d used it.

_ Friends. _

I could handle being friends…I think. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, lovelies! See you...next decade! ::cringes at cheesy joke::


	10. November 20-24

* * *

_While you're looking at them baby, read my lips._

_ I know what you want, but you can't have this. _

-Ariana Grande

* * *

As November pressed on, Peeta and I fell into a comfortable arrangement of meeting each other at the library to study. It started out simple enough, back when most of our conversations happened mainly through text. We quickly realized that we were both in the same library, just at opposite ends of the bookshelves. After that, it just seemed natural to ask if the other was there. Before we knew it, it had turned into standing plans.

Now, I sat across the table from Peeta, biting into a carrot stick as I worked on the PowerPoint presentation I had to give in Humanities next week. My phone buzzed with a message from Johanna as I worked, asking if I’d had the chance to work on the final thesis for our group project at all. Shit. I forgot that our professor wanted to look at that after class tomorrow. I’d volunteered to type it up a week ago, but a week ago my academic calendar seemed far less stressful. 

Everything was coming to a head with the end of the semester just on the horizon. Already next week was Thanksgiving, and then there was just two short weeks left before finals. A fact that both terrified and thrilled me.

I was definitely ready for the semester to be gone and behind me.

Campus was already in full-blown Christmas mode. Fairy lights twinkled in the trees at dusk and you couldn’t enter any common area without hearing the jolly music. Even the Theta house was decorated for the season already, complete with _ three _ trees, garland looping around the wood stair railing and a poinsettia wreath on the front door. 

The premature decorating at the house had more to do with the fact that most of the girls would be home by Christmas and wanted a chance to revel in the cheer beforehand. It only served to make me more painfully aware that I would not be spending the holidays with Prim or Mom.

The first time ever, actually.

Mom had offered to help pay for my plane ticket, but I refused. She had enough on going on between Christmas presents for Prim, bills and other expenses without needing to add anything else on her plate.

I would mail home their gifts and we’d FaceTime Christmas morning. It wouldn’t be the same, but it was the best I could do for this year.

I tried to focus on the positive. With so many people gone, I would be able to pick up as many shifts as I wanted at Sae’s during break, which would be a great help to the start of a new semester.

I tipped my head back with a sip of tea and noticed Peeta, hunched over his laptop screen and occasionally scribbling something down into his notebook. His focus was intense, eyes glued to whatever he was working on and lips pressed together in a tight line. 

Usually, these ‘study dates’ involved quite a bit of chatter in the beginning, and somewhere along the way we’d fall silent for a bit while we worked before eventually picking back up a conversation. He seemed to sense me staring because his piercing blue eyes lifted from the screen a moment and he sat up straighter.

“Sorry, did you say something?” he asked, rubbing his shoulders. “I zoned out for a minute, there.”

“No.” I smirked. “Just watching. You seemed pretty focused, sorry to break it.”

“It’s okay. We have a few new plays we’re hoping to try out this weekend against Ohio, I’m still trying to memorize them.”

“They’re new?” 

“Yeah. Ohio is good..._ really good _. One of the best in the country, arguably. It’ll be our toughest game of the season.” 

“Is it really a good idea to add new plays in the week of your toughest game?” I asked, and he seemed both surprised and amused by my candid question. “If they’re that good, shouldn’t you stick with tried and true?”

“You have a good point, and we definitely have favorite plays that work. But, just like I’m sitting here studying their defense, looking for patterns and weak spots...they’re doing the same with us.”

“So you’re trying to catch them by surprise.”

His smile increased.

“Yeah, exactly.”

I preened a little with his praise. 

“When do you leave?” 

“Tomorrow. Usually wouldn’t head out until Friday, but we’re leaving a day early in order to get some extra practice time in.” 

“How long of a drive is it?”

“About eight hours, but we’re flying.”

He said it like it was an admission, and his eyes shifted, embarrassed, though I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why.

“That’s convenient, but it must get expensive.” For as often as they played away games, and how many of them were further than eight hours away, it seemed like an insane expense each year.

“This is probably going to sound like the douchiest thing I’ve ever said...but we have a private jet.” 

Ah, so that was why he was embarrassed. I laughed, the sound escaping me before I could stop it, because only Peeta would flush relating a fact that was entirely out of his control.

“Well if you can’t get free iPads, you might as well ride in a private jet now and then,” I teased, and it was Peeta’s turn to laugh.

“You’re really upset about those iPads, huh?”

“I just think it’s a little _ silly _to have a rule about not accepting gifts when the NCAA is shelling out money for first class private jet transportation, that’s all.”

“Fair enough,” he laughed, just as his phone lit up with an incoming call.

“Sorry, one second,” he told me, and then picked it up. “Hey, Portia. What’s up?”

My blood turned cold at the mention of her name. Though their conversation clearly centered around class, I couldn’t help but be fixated on why she chose to call instead of text. Or how he said her name with such ease, like her calling was a normal and frequent occurrence.

When he hung up a moment later, he apologized again.

“It’s no problem.”

“The end of the semester gets insane,” he explained and I nodded my head. 

I couldn’t get Finnick’s words from the dinner party out of my head. No matter what Peeta said to him after, whether or not his way of going about it was wrong or right, Finnick got his point across.

And on some level, I knew that he was right.

“Portia is cute.”

Peeta’s expression held bewilderment with my sudden admission.

“I think she likes you. You should ask her out.”

Now, he was definitely lost. His mouth opened, then closed. Tips of his ears turned red. He blinked twice and cleared his throat.

“You...think I should ask Portia out?” 

“Why not?” I shrugged. My heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest. This was a terrible game to play, hardly any good could come of it, but I couldn’t stop myself. 

I turned my head down, so I wouldn’t have to look at Peeta.

“I don’t know,” he finally said, slowly.

“Something to think about.” 

He still looked thoughtful and confused as he closed his laptop and his cell phone buzzed on top of the table, once again. He looked at it quickly, and then turned back to me. 

“Hey, are you hungry?”

I glanced down at my watch, reading the time as almost eight. The way the sunset came so early these days was deceptive and there was no telling whether it was five thirty or ten o’clock. 

As if on cue, my stomach growled and I touched it, embarrassed. 

“I could eat.”

“Some people are down on the District grabbing food. Do you want to come?”

I hesitated, because despite the fact that Peeta assured me that things wouldn’t be awkward anymore, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit unwelcome. 

Gale and I had made some strides at the dinner party. He stopped calling me _ Catpiss _ at least, but I had a sorrowful feeling Finnick and I would never be considered _ friends. _

Sensing my fight or flight kicking in, Peeta subtly added, “Delly should be there. Madge, too.” 

I relaxed a fraction. They might not be my biggest allies, but they were friendly faces who would help keep some of the tension at bay. 

And Peeta was right. We were friends, and getting closer every week it seemed. If anything were ever to blossom past friendship between us, they would have to get over it.

Far easier said than done, I knew.

“Okay,” I agreed nervously, but Peeta looked happy that I’d accepted the invitation which helped to ease some of the building anxiety. 

Gale, Madge, Thresh, Delly and a few others I didn’t know by name were already in one of the booths, looking over menus when we arrived. Delly glanced up, clearly pleasantly surprised to see me there and scooted further in the C shaped booth to make enough space for me and Peeta both. 

“Hey, you brought along Katniss.” Madge grinned from across the table and already I was feeling better about being there. 

“We were studying.”

Quarters were close enough within the booth that mine and Peeta’s arms continually brushed against each other as we glanced over our menus. 

My stupid heart lurched every time. 

“Do you have any idea of what you’re going to order?” I asked, flipping a page in the menu. 

“The nachos are really good here,” he admitted and my lips turned up.

“As a culinary major, it pained you to say that, didn’t it?”

“Deeply,” he laughed before sighing dramatically. “But the lowly college student in me knows there’s no denying it.”

“They _ do _ look good.” I had to agree. “I’m stuck between the chicken club or being ridiculous and getting something like a pancake.”

“Where do you see pancakes?” he asked, genuinely curious. I flipped to the back of the menu, tapping a finger on their _ all day breakfast _special, and caught Delly smiling at us before looking away guiltily for having been caught. 

In the end, Peeta ordered nachos, me a chicken sandwich and we got a chocolate chip pancake to split which confused our waitress as much as the entire table. 

“It’s basically a dessert,” I tried to justify when Gale started making fun of it. He paused, thinking it over for a moment before nodding his acceptance.

“I guess I’ll be doing an extra workout in the morning,” Delly groaned when the food arrived and she stared down at a massive burger and a pile of fries. “My uniform won’t fit otherwise.”

“I’ll help you out, babe,” Thresh offered, plucking a french fry from her plate. She slapped his hand away with feigned annoyance and guarded her plate.

“Will you have to do extra workouts tomorrow, too?”

“It should be fine. Just can’t make it a habit,” Peeta answered, taking a bite of his nachos. I hoped he hadn’t taken the question as a dig at his weight. I hadn’t meant anything in asking, I just knew that a lot of athletes had strict diet plans and exercise routines they were expected to follow while in season. 

“Anyways, it’s healthy,” I said, brushing the question off with a teasing lilt to my voice. “There’s lettuce and onion and tomato…”

“I like your logic,” he agreed. 

“Even if you have to, it’s worth it. Those look amazing.”

“Help yourself,” he offered, scooting them closer to me. I didn’t need to be asked twice and everyone around the table started to dig into their plates.

My mind was racing even as I pasted a smile on my face and laughed along with everyone. Sharing a plate of food with Peeta was too much. Our bumping knees, which seemed to linger in the contact longer with each brush…

Why had I told him to ask Portia out? Self doubt crept in the back of my mind, gnawing at me, insistent that I wasn’t good enough and that I should leave him alone.

But I didn’t _ want _ to leave him alone. And selfish though it might be, I truly thought I might never be able to hang out with him again if he started to date Portia. 

It was too late to do anything about it, though. To tell him to forget what I said in the library would be to admit my feelings for him--and that I was slightly insane. Whether I wanted to make my intentions clear or not wasn’t up to me. To bring up that conversation again would only add yet another confusing layer to our...relationship.

We were pleasantly full by the time we finished and were walking outside to head our separate ways. Delly was going to hang out with Thresh until curfew, but Madge insisted that she was close enough to her apartment to walk instead of getting a ride. Seeing as it was right on the way for me, when she asked if I wanted to join her, I had no reason to say no. 

Out of excuses to stay, I turned to Peeta for an awkward side hug goodbye. 

“Uh, good luck this weekend.”

“Thanks, we’ll need it,” he joked, shoving his hands down into his pockets. 

“You’ll do great…”

“Ready, Katniss?” Madge asked, hopping from foot to foot in the cold air. She linked her arm around mine as we started down the District, humming along to the Christmas music piped through the speakers that hung on each light.

“Do you have plans this weekend?” she asked, conversationally.

Just work. 

“Nothing in particular.” 

“You should come to Ohio.”

I looked over at her in the darkness, confused by the randomness of the idea. 

“For the game?”

“Yeah.” Madge shrugged, as if it were obvious. “It’ll be the biggest match-up of the season. Might be fun to surprise…” she trailed off and bit her lip when I gave her a pointed look. “Well, it might be fun to get away for a day or two. Annie and I are driving over on Friday.” 

It _ would _be fun. Midterms were over and Panem was in peek party mode. I was sure hundreds of students would be traveling to Ohio to live it up this weekend. 

“I have shifts at Sae’s Saturday and Sunday,” I said.

“So find someone to cover.”

“I’m sort of on probation still. With my sorority.”

“I mean...do they need to know _ where _you’re going?” Madge asked with a tip of her head and small smile. 

I walked in silence, listening to our shoes hit the pavement as we kept the same beat. _ Thinking. _

It would be fun to surprise Peeta by showing up in Ohio. Being off campus and away from Wisconsin, in a city where fewer people would be familiar with _ the incident _might be nice. But, our rocky past had me nervous to surprise him with something so big. It was one thing to do something like show up at his culinary taste-off without warning, an entirely different thing to show up at one of his out of state games unannounced.

But, the more I thought about it, I couldn’t imagine him getting upset. Surprised? _ He’d definitely be surprised. _ I could already imagine the way his lips would curl up into a warm smile at the sight of me. Maybe we would even get to hang out for a bit after the game. I was sure Madge and Annie could arrange it.

Maybe it was my chance to fix tonight. 

“I’ll think about it,” I promised as we approached the Theta house. Despite not saying anything, I could feel Madge’s energy radiating through the air, practically bouncing off the walls.

This girl wouldn’t be happy until I was totally overthinking _ everything _and in a car on my way to Ohio.

Later that night, after I’d showered and changed for bed, I groaned inwardly as I sent out a group text to all the servers at Sae’s, asking if anyone was willing to take my shifts. 

Within minutes, I had both covered. 

She might just get her wish. 

* * *

It had been surprisingly easy to convince Cashmere that I was going home for the weekend, instead of the game. She herself wasn’t going to be there. With the semester winding down and our biggest charity event for Christmas coming up, she had a lot on her plate to keep busy with. 

Delly would be there, though. As part of the dance team. 

It had been impossible to lie to her about my plans and so that night when we were in our room and she asked me what I was _ really _ packing for, I told the truth.

With that off my chest, it was just Octavia and Maysilee that I needed to worry about. But, I figured avoiding two girls in a sea of tens of thousands shouldn’t be too difficult of a task. 

The last minute expenses hadn’t been ideal. Even though it would only take about two tanks of gas to get there and back, and we’d found a moderately clean and cheap hotel to room in, the trip was still going to set me back at least a hundred dollars. Add in the two shifts I was giving up at Sae’s and I was out a good two hundred. 

But, I tried telling myself the cause was worth the sacrifice. 

I had to fix the mess I’d inadvertently created with Peeta. Needed him to know that I didn’t want him dating Portia or anyone else, for that matter. Yeah, all of it could’ve been said through a text, but the idea of making a gesture like this one made my insides warm and cheeks flush.

I just hoped that it worked. 

Peeta and the team were already in Ohio before we had even left Panem. I’d seen posts on their official Instagram of the arrival before they were whisked away for a practice. 

We still had a long eight hour drive ahead of us.

It wasn’t as bad as I anticipated. Madge and Annie gave _ road-tripping _ a new name. By the time I arrived at their apartment, the car was already packed and stocked with snacks to have on our way. Madge had even made an entertaining playlist with more than twenty hours of music cued up and ready to see us through to Columbus and back. 

“I just have to run by the guys apartment and pick up something quick for Gale,” Madge said once we were all in the car and ready to go. We drove the few blocks down it took to get to their apartment and she kept her blinker on while running inside. 

True to her word, she returned less than ten minutes later, huffing about how large the apartment was and how it was difficult to find anything inside of it. 

“Does the league put them up in there?” I asked, since we were on the topic of their lush pad.

It far exceeded most of the living situations I’d seen other students experiencing on campus. In all fairness, I’d mostly been to the dorms and houses on greek row--but I couldn’t imagine that was the norm in apartment living.

Madge looked at me like I had two heads before quickly refocusing on the road.

“No way.”

“It must cost their parents a fortune.” If the NCAA wasn’t fronting the bill, it had to be their parents or possibly scholarship money, but even that I wasn’t sure of. It definitely wasn’t Peeta, Finnick and Gale paying for it personally--they weren’t allowed to work during the season. 

I remembered Peeta saying that his family paid him to work in their bakery over the summer, but there was no way it was enough to afford that place and spend money the way he did.

I had also seen his truck. It wasn’t old or beaten up by any means. Peeta might not flash it the way girls in my sorority did, but he was definitely not hurting for cash.

Apparently, none of these boys were.

“I doubt Peeta’s family even notices when the rent comes out of their bank account,” she chuckled and it was my turn to be confused.

“What do you mean?”

Annie and Madge shared a look through the rear view mirror and my head twisted to look between the two of them, waiting.

“You don’t know?” Annie asked.

“Don’t know what?”

“Have you ever heard of Songbird’s Sweets and Pastries?” Madge asked.

Of course I had. It was a wildly popular bakery with multiple locations up and down the east coast and branching further west across the country. For a moment I was confused about how we’d jumped from talking about apartments to bakeries and...then...it...clicked…

“Wait...his _ “family bakery” _ is Songbird’s?” 

I felt my brain making connections, how he’d paid off Marvel to let me down from the dunking tank, when he’d easily slipped me forty dollars after his friends tipped me poorly. The ease in which he insisted on paying for things when we’d gone out.

“In his defense, the primary location he works at is in Virginia Beach. But, yeah,” Madge confirmed. “The Mellark's are loaded.”

“Holy shit,” I breathed. “I can’t believe he never told me.”

“Can’t you?” she chuckled. “It’s Peeta. He never actually told me either, I found out from Gale.”

“Finnick told me,” Annie agreed.

She went on to allude to the fact that the Odair family lived comfortably as well, but neither Madge or Annie made mention of Gale’s family arrangement or economic status. I took it as a cue to leave it alone and not press for details.

+++

“Do you guys do this a lot?” I asked, when we were just about midway through our trip. Annie was lounging, spread across the length of the backseat with her toes keeping beat to the music. I realized then how long her hair was, now that it was free from its bun. It flowed far past her shoulders, resting in loose curls over her chest and approaching her stomach. 

“Not really,” she replied. “Our schedules are pretty busy. Sometimes I think we’re busier than Finnick and Gale.”

"Preach," Madge said in agreement.

“This’ll only be my second game of the season.”

“I’m curious to know what a performance dancer’s schedule is like.”

“I have lectures five days a week, followed up with dance classes. It’s crazier right now because we’re also coordinating rehearsals with the city ballet for _ The Nutcracker. _ Then I teach at a local studio on Saturdays.”

“Intense,” Madge mouthed. 

“You work?”

“Yes. I have to.” she shrugged. “But, I don’t mind it. It’s fun getting to be with the little kids. Different from the rest of the week.”

Instinctively, I found myself relaxing more with the girls. Despite our varying personalities and majors, we shared so much in common. It felt like I could be myself without having to put up any pretenses or walls around them.

“I work, too. At Greasy Sae’s, you know the restaurant on the District?”

“Love it there.” Madge nodded. “It stays open so late--which, I’m sure stinks for you, but it’s great after night clinic.”

I laughed, agreeing with her that the late shifts indeed were the worst. 

Madge’s phone pinged from where it was stationed on her dashboard and she clicked on the text to have it read out loud through the car speakers. 

_ New message from: Gale Hawthorne _

_ Practice sucked balls. _

“Always eloquent.” She smirked and I heard Annie giggle from the backseat. She grabbed her phone and handed it to me. 

“Can you respond for me?” she asked, unlocking it. 

“Sure. What do you want me to say?”

“Just tell him I’ll suck his when I get there.”

I gaped at her and Annie snorted which made Madge’s smile increase. 

“Really?”

“He’ll laugh,” she promised. And she was right. A minute after the message was sent he replied with an all caps: _ LOL. _Madge looked pleasantly satisfied when I read it to her. 

I tried to imagine sending a text like that to Peeta. Ever. Even if we’d been dating for a year, I had a hard time imagining his response being anything other than similar to how he’d responded when I joked about having an orgasm.

I hadn’t really spoken to Peeta since Wednesday night. The way I left things was awkward and I knew that once he left for Ohio, he would be insanely busy. The game tomorrow was all anyone had been talking about for the past two weeks, with the College Bowl Championships just around the corner. I was sure that the pressure was insurmountable.

All of the televisions at Sae’s were tuned into ‘College Corner with Caesar Flickerman’ last night during my late shift. I’d slipped behind the bar next to Marvel and got caught up in watching it alongside him. 

“Claudius, why don’t you explain to the people at home why Saturday’s game of The University of Panem against Ohio State is so important?” 

Both Marvel and I leaned against the bar, enthralled as we listened to the breakdown of stats and predictions on tomorrow’s game.

“Buckeyes have that impressive 8-0 ranking, but don’t let that fool you into thinking it’ll be an easy win against the Nightlocks. They hold their own imposing stats with a 7-1 season so far, one of the top teams in the Big Ten Conference.”

“Yes, this game will truly be one of the best vs the best,” Caesar agreed with a thoughtful nod. “Because while Panem had that slip up at the end of September, it seems they’ve bounced back since and I’ve received news that their coach has incorporated fresh plays that will help to tighten up some of their offensive weak spots.”

“Since when are you so interested in football predictions?” Marvel teased, wiggling an eyebrow up at me.

“Shh,” I scolded, brushing him off.

“Panem still has one of the divisions best defensive lines--something Ohio shouldn’t overlook. But, there’s a reason Ohio is undefeated and it is that they are true beasts on the field. I mean, take last week for instance.”

“Yes!” Caesar agreed, enthusiastically. “Minnesota wasn’t even able to put points on the board. That was a crushing win for Ohio: 42-0.”

“It proves the point that this game will predictably be the most exciting of the season.”

I’m sure the nerves of the entire team were shot. 

One of the things that had been incredible to me after their loss in September was just how quickly the tables could turn in their support. When they were winning, they were kings. Treated as super human and praised simply for getting a ball across a field.

But when they were losing…

Even _ I _ cringed at some of the comments people left behind the safety of a screen and anonymity. 

It made me all the more nervous about crashing the game. Rationally, I knew that there would be over one hundred thousand people in attendance. I would be just another flicker of navy and red in the sea of spectators. 

I knew the entire reason for me coming was to capture his attention; either in person somehow or by at least texting him tomorrow after the game to let him know I had come. He _ had _ to know that I was there, otherwise what was the point?

I just didn’t want to be a distraction. 

The sky set long before we arrived in Columbus. It came as no surprise that our hotel lobby was swarmed with people--the hospitality industry must _ love _football season--and it took over thirty minutes just to get checked in and get our room keys. 

By the time we settled into our hotel room, we were so exhausted from travel that we all but fell into bed and passed out for the night. 

* * *

Saturday started cold and rainy.

I rolled over in bed towards the window and watched as it beat down heavily against the glass. 

As the morning went on, the windchill dropped, changing the pelting rain into a slushy mixture of sleet that soaked down to the bone.

Coordinating outfits and team colors were damned at that point and everyone was just trying to stay warm the best they could. Before the game started, we went to the store and bought a big pack of hand and feet warmers to stick inside of our gloves and boots. Then came the layers of sweaters, scarves, hats and coats.

The football players were less fortunate in that respect. It caused me to physically shiver, watching as they assembled on the field in nothing but spandex and long sleeved, but thin, UnderArmor shirts beneath their jerseys. 

Off the field, the players were huddled in jackets and blankets, trying to warm up the best they could before returning to the game.

Thick, wet snow continued beating down as the first quarter began with sun hidden behind dark clouds. I felt my respect for all the players growing. 

I watched as offense took to the field. Despite the inclement weather conditions, Finnick expertly assembled his teammates into formation and I watched Peeta squat down into position. He looked fierce from this vanishing point; the stocky muscles of his arms straining as they touched down to the slick field. 

_ How could I have ever believed he rode the bench? _

The rest happened quickly. Between the whipping winds and roar of the crowd, there was no possible way to hear Finnick begin the play. Peeta was suddenly passing the ball to him and blocking the mammoth man in front of him in a matter of moments.

He held his own against Ohio. His thighs strained, feet dug into the earth as he fought with all of his strength to keep the other player from gaining distance. Watching them was a little like trying to force the opposite sides of a magnet together; they pushed with equal strength and remained unmoving. 

Finnick threw the ball long. I lost view of it in the foggy snow as it spiraled towards the opposite end of the field, but the player it was aimed for never did. He caught it with ease, tucked it against his chest tightly and turned to run towards the end zone. 

He was tackled almost instantly--no one was joking about Ohio’s defense being extremely strong and on top of their game--but in that caught pass, the Nightlocks had gained several rushing yards.

“Drink some,” Annie said, passing me a steel bottle from underneath the wool blanket she wore around her shoulders. 

I inhaled the steam, preparing myself for warmth of hot chocolate, and almost choked on the strong stench of alcohol. 

“What is this?” I asked, taking a swig before she could reply. Knowing what to expect made it good. _ Really good. _ Still hot chocolate, but laced with more than its fair share of-- “Is that Bourbon?”

She nodded, accepting the thermos back. “It’ll keep you warm.”

“Definitely,” I agreed. I could still feel it slipping down my throat, settling in a ball of warmth inside of my chest and down to the pit of my belly. I hadn’t expected it from Annie, but she was full of surprises, wasn’t she? 

Madge leaned over Annie to shoot me a thumbs up under her mittens.

“Good, right?”

The crowd roared and the sound was deafening. My head whipped back to the field in time to spot one of the Buckeyes rushing downfield like the wind. He slithered and escaped two tackles, leaving the Nightlock offense tripping over themselves to try and catch him but it was too late.

He’d intercepted the pass and ran it back up field, right to a touchdown. Ohio fans went wild; cheering and waving flags and pom poms into the air as the team celebrated the first successful play of the game.

7-0 in the Buckeyes favor.

The score didn’t improve much as the second quarter came to a close. The Nightlocks had managed to get on the board, but they were still down by two touchdowns when halftime started and both teams retreated to the locker rooms.

I sighed, sinking down into my chair as the marching band took to center field to impress and entertain the crowd with their intricate moves and music. It was probably not the best time to be in the Nightlocks locker room right now. Difficult enough that they were going head to head against the strongest team in the Big Ten division, but they also didn’t have home field advantage which played a huge part in moral.

I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and went to the logged texting conversation I had saved in my inbox with Peeta.

**Me (1:43pm):** There’s still plenty of time left in the game.

I didn’t expect a reply back, figuring his cell phone was off and he wasn’t able to get it during halftime. It surprised me when the chat bubbles started dancing at the bottom of the screen and his quick reply came through.

_ Peeta (1:44pm): _You’re watching?

I kept my reply vague, not wanting to reveal to him yet that I was in the stadium.

**Me (1:45pm): **Everyone is, lol.

_ Peeta (1:45pm): _Ugh.

**Me (1:46pm): **Sorry. Still new to pep talks. 

** Me (1:47pm): **It’s not so bad. The game is only half over, and you’ve already got points on the board. Plenty of time to turn things around. 

_ Peeta (1:49pm): _As long as they don’t score again first. Their offense is really good.

**Me (1:50pm): **So is yours. I have faith. 

_ Peeta (1:52pm): _Lol, do you always root for the underdog?

**Me (1:52pm): **I’m starting to. 

_ Peeta (1:53pm): _Thanks, Katniss. I have to go, I’ll talk to you later. 

**Me (1:53pm): **Good luck. 

I closed my phone and shoved it back down into my pocket with renewed optimism, and I wondered if Peeta felt the same. Annie offered another sip of her contraband and I took a grateful swig before joining in on the cheering as the teams took to the field again. 

Music pumped through the speakers, its bass jolting the stands beneath us, and it did well to raise the energy of the crowd until there was an electric pulse of excitement radiating throughout the arena.

The Nightlocks scored another touchdown in the third quarter--tying the game. It was Gale who completed the victory pass and I didn’t know support until I heard Madge screaming at the top of her lungs.

The jumbo screen zeroed in on him in the end zone as he dust off imaginary dirt from his shoulder and some of his teammates joined him to share in the excitement. The Nightlocks section of the stands broke out in the wave and I found myself joining in with laughter.

Defense managed to prevent the Buckeyes from scoring any more points in the remaining third and fourth quarters--but in turn, they had done the very same to stop the Nightlocks. 

Finnick was sacked twice; dragged to the ground before he could throw the ball by the same slippery player who managed to break the offensive wall. The second time he knocked him to the ground, a flag was thrown out into the field for unnecessary roughness and I saw Annie’s concerned frown. 

A few of the line men rushed over to the scene--pissed that the Buckeye player had come at their quarterback. Peeta extended a hand down to Finnick, helping him up to his feet and gave his back a reassuring pat before jogging back to the line of scrimmage. 

When the final quarter ended, and the teams were still tied, the game went into overtime. It was gut-wrenching to watch. My hands were shaking and Annie had to take the little heat packets out of her gloves because she was actually sweating. The fact that the game would end with the next successful play had us all on pins and needles. There was no time to mess up, no room for error, and both teams knew it. 

The snow started to fall again so heavily that it made it hard to see much of the action. Annie wrapped her blanket around my shoulder and we stood closer for added warmth.

It was third down and Nightlocks had the ball. They paused the game for a time-out and huddled together mid-field in a tight circle before breaking apart to take their positions. 

Finnick called the play to action and Peeta snapped the ball back to him long. 

Finnick took off to the left, but before he could be tackled did a pass-off of the ball. He was brought to the ground by three confused Buckeyes, while the other player rushed towards the end zone.

The crowd erupted into intense cheering with the slick move, but some of the Buckeye defense would not stand to be tricked. They were right on his heels, blocking him from completing the pass. He threw the ball into the air right before he could be tackled to the ground and the line man waiting for him in the end zone caught it.

A touchdown.

My mouth opened wide with shock; it had happened so fast I wasn’t sure if I’d actually seen it correctly. 

The Nighthawks waited for the blow of the whistle before they started to celebrate, wanting to be sure the pass had been legal. When a touchdown was granted, they were officially given their six point lead to end the game, and the entire team rushed the field in victory.

I screamed until my chest was on fire and throat was raw. They’d overcome so much adversity; playing their toughest game in an away stadium was bad enough, but adding in the poor weather and pulling up from behind at the final moments felt like I’d witnessed something special.

And I couldn’t wait to see Peeta.

* * *

We were back in the hotel room, underneath layers of blankets with the heat turned up in an attempt to get warm, when Madge brought up meeting the guys.

“Do you have a specific window of time that we need to get you back to Panem?” She asked, one leg dangling off the bed as she lounged. 

I shook my head, freeing my hair from it’s braid and running my fingers through the snarls. It was still wet from the snow and rain combination earlier.

“I just said that I was gone for the weekend. I figured we’d get back sometime tomorrow.”

“Okay, cool.” She sat up, regarding me. “So, tell me how this whole probation thing works. Are you allowed to go out at all?”

It depended on what she meant by _ going out. _ By her definition, I was sure the answer was no, but I’d already blow probation to smithereens by being here in the first place and lying about it. It didn’t _ actually _ matter if I went out for a few hours at this point.

“Don’t worry about the probation. Just don’t post any pictures of me on social media, okay?”

“Sure. So, it looks like some people are going to a place called Snows Tavern. Any interest in tagging along?”

Did she need to ask? 

I played it cool, waiting to get up and start getting ready until I saw them do the same.

“Yeah, sure.”

“I think Gale mentioned Peeta’s name when I asked who was going.” If Madge lacked one skill, I was quickly learning it was subtly. 

“Okay.”

“Maybe...wear that?” she suggested, pointing a finger at the oversized sweatshirt that swam on my body before flitting off into the bathroom. 

I peered down at it, and the big block letters that broadcasted the _ University of Panem Nightlocks. _It didn’t smell like him, anymore. I’d washed it a few times and now it just smelled the same as all of my other clothing. 

Was it too bold to show up to a party tonight wearing his sweatshirt?

Honestly, would he even notice or remember that he gave it to me? Everyone would be wearing either Nightlocks or Buckeye memorabilia, I would blend in, at least. 

About fifteen minutes later, Madge came out of the bathroom with her hair down and makeup touched up.

“Ready?” 

It was a great underestimation to claim that _ ‘some people’ _were going out tonight. 

Snow’s Tavern was massive; a two story establishment with four different wrap around bar locations on property and absolutely packed. It was far superior to any “campus bar” I’d ever been to in Panem. 

An enticing beat pumped through the speakers, setting the mood for the evening and seductive low lightening gave it an air of mystery.

The stark contrast in temperature between inside the bar and outside made my cheeks and fingertips sting. I rubbed my hands together, trying to speed up the process of getting comfortable and followed Annie and Madge further inside.

“Delly should be here,” Annie told me, linking our arms together as we wove through the tightly packed crowd. “Somewhere…”

I pulled my phone out and punched a quick message to Delly, asking if she was at Snow’s Tavern. Moments later _ praise hand _emojis and an obscene number of exclamation points assaulted my screen.

**Me (8:45pm): **You good?

_ Delly (8:46pm): _Sorry. Been drinking, lol. And I’m high off the win.

_ Delly (8:47pm): _Thresh is definitely getting a victory blowjob tonight.

**Me (8:47pm): **Jesus, Delly. Come on.

_ Delly (8:48pm): _Sorry. I’m upstairs...come!!!

_ Delly (8:48pm): _Peeta is here, somewhere.

I knew that traveling all the way to Ohio and showing up at a post-game party wearing Peeta’s sweatshirt made my feelings more than obvious, but did every single person on the planet _ have _ to point out that he was here? 

Despite my annoyance, I couldn’t help the knot of anticipation forming in my stomach at the mention of him. The fact that we were both there was exhilarating and I was starting to feel less worried and more excited. 

Now that the game was over, my presence was no longer a distraction. Them winning was just an added bonus. Relief would have him soaring with happiness and I hoped to add to it with my surprise appearance.

“Delly says she’s upstairs,” I told the girls over the pulsing music. We slipped away from the overcrowded area, slithering through clumps of people to get to the clear staircase that danced with different colors every few seconds.

I took them quickly, emptying out into a large lounge area where a lot more faces were recognizable from Panem. I scanned the room quickly for any girls in Theta and relaxed when it was all clear. 

The atmosphere was palpable, everyone celebrating with drinks and dancing and cheering over the victory of the season. 

I recognized a few of the football players, sprawled out on leather couches with girls and alcohol spread out around them like a buffet. I held onto an unjustified wave of superiority at the fact that I wasn’t there for any random player. Just Peeta.

Madge and Annie found Finnick and Gale quickly enough and I tried not to linger as they greeted one another with kisses and words of congratulations before settling in. 

Finnick’s eyes met mine accidentally, and then again on purpose as his brows pinched with the confusion of my presence. Suddenly, I felt self-conscious standing there in Peeta’s sweatshirt. I tugged on the material, shifting on my feet. 

“I came with the girls,” I felt the need to explain. “To watch the game and to…”

My words trailed off. To what? Impress his best friend. Show these guys that I was actually serious and not just some air-headed sorority girl who got off on mean pranks. 

Finnick’s eyes widened a little and his eyebrows lost some of their harshness.

“You came for Peeta?”

I nodded, sheepishly.

He didn’t say anything for a minute and then ran a hand through his unruly bronze hair.

“Look, I owe you an apology. It’s the quarterback in me to be protective and a little abrasive, sometimes. I wasn’t planning on confronting you like that...but then you were there and it just came out.”

“I understand.” I did. It didn’t make what he did okay, but I knew the place where it was coming from, a place that was fiercely protective of his team. A place of leadership, where he was used to taking initiative and charge.

“Peeta didn’t,” he laughed. “He was...pretty pissed off at me.”

I didn’t say anything, just toyed with the end of my braid as we stood there, awkwardly. 

“Anyways, I just wanted to say to forget what I said at the dinner party, okay? Whatever happens between you and Peeta isn’t my business.”

“I--”

“Katniss!” 

I turned at the sound of my name and saw Delly, drink in her hand with the other looped limply around Thresh’s fingers. She looked cute; the vibrant shade of bright red lipstick was a great contrast against her light skin and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail with unruly curly pieces escaping. 

I turned back to Finnick and gave him a tentative smile.

“Thanks, Finnick.”

He nodded, turning back to Annie as Delly pulled me into her arms for a hug. 

“Look at you. Nice outfit.”

“It was the warmest thing I brought,” I said in way of excuse, embarrassed to be under the gaze of her knowing smile. 

“Dell, what are you drinking?” Madge asked, saddling up beside us. Delly passed over her drink and Madge practically danced as she took a sip.

“Okay, that is incredible. Katniss, you have to try.”

Before I could protest, Delly was passing the drink over into my hands. I took a long sip, agreeing with them that the coconuty drink was delicious before we made our way over towards one of the bars.

Delly was a great friend. She’d covered for me multiple times during my probation, the largest being tonight. She said nothing when a drink menu was passed my way, didn’t even flinch, but I felt guilty taking too much advantage of her kindness. The last thing I needed was for her to get in trouble because of me and I’d decided that I’d already broken enough probation rules for the night. 

“This is fun, isn’t it?” Delly asked, excitedly, looking over the drink menu again. “Being in a different state, I mean.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Is it just me or is this place way nicer than anything we have on campus?”

“Right?” she bemoaned with a little shake of her head. “They live a good life here in Ohio.”

“If the Nightlocks keep winning like they did today, maybe Sae’s can get a renovation,” I teased. “Add a second story with colorful glowing stairs.”

“It was a good game, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

"You know, Peeta is the one who came up with that last play.”

“The one during overtime?” I confirmed and Delly nodded. 

“Thresh told me. He only knows because coach gave him all the credit in the locker room today; knowing he wouldn’t take it otherwise. Thresh said he spends _ hours _ every week coming up with plays and different tactics to bring to coach for the team to try.”

“I didn’t know that…” I murmured, thanking the bartender quickly when he returned with my sparkling water. 

“He’s really talented. And smart, but that goes without saying,” she said with a flippant wave of her hand. “You have to be smart to play center, so many logistics go into it.”

I took a sip of my drink and nodded my head, trying not to seem ignorant to what she was talking about. 

“Have you seen him yet?” 

“No. He still doesn’t know that I’m here...” I admitted, nervously. “I didn’t want to say anything and end up distracting him then I just figured I would see him tonight.”

“So why are you standing here with us?” she gaped. _ “Go find him.” _

The girls nodded their agreement with enthusiasm. I regarded it carefully, not allowing it to get my hopes up. Although I was fairly confident the night would end well, I didn’t want to go into it with expectations only for them to be squashed.

Peeta and I were just friends. And the last time we talked, I basically insisted he asked Portia out. I needed to do damage control. That was all that tonight was. 

“Katniss, go,” Delly said, encouragingly. “You know you want to.”

“Wait, liquid courage first,” Madge said, sliding her drink across the table towards me. I took a quick sip and thanked her before rising up from my chair to start searching for him. 

I’d given this moment a lot of thought over the past few days...the good and the bad of how it could all end up, but I felt good about it. 

The bar was dark and loud--not ideal conditions to be conducting a search. I scanned the upper floor, where most of the football team seemed to be hanging out, but couldn’t spot Peeta.

_ There was no way he wasn’t here... _

I rounded the corner, down a hallway leading to storage and the bathrooms and stopped dead in my tracks with a sharp inhale.

If there was one thing about Peeta Mellark, it was that he did not know how to blend into a crowd. Due to his bulk and height alone, as soon as I spotted him, I knew there was no possible way I could be confusing him for someone else.

Which is why I knew that it was him, leaning against the wall with his lips pressed against another girl’s. 

The girl was tall, legs clad in high heels to make them stretch on longer. Her rich mahogany hair was smooth, falling down her back effortlessly to rest just above her waist.

The waist Peeta was resting a careful hand on. 

_ Because they were kissing. _

It was all I could do to stand there entirely dumbstruck. _ Watching. _The longer they kissed, the more foolish I felt. Foolish for coming to Ohio, foolish for thinking that all of the damage I had done was fixable.

And I couldn’t stop fucking watching.

I swallowed heavily the ball forming in my throat and tried to get my feet to move...to disappear before he took notice of me.

Too late. 

With their lips still pressed together, his eyes opened lazily and locked with mine. I saw his eyebrows furrow, recognition dawning on him. He broke apart with pink stained lips that hung open in surprise.

“K-Katniss?”

The girl whipped around to peer at me from over her shoulder, annoyed by the interruption. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I whispered to myself. 

Immediately, I turned on my heels and fled down the hallway, back into the open bar, ignoring the way he called out my name again. 

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It took effort to expel each inhalation from my lungs. I didn’t know where I was going...I just needed to get away from there.

I took the brightly colored stairs quickly back down to the main level, heart aching dully in my chest, like someone was sitting on it. 

I felt so stupid, because I knew that I had no right to feel as upset as I did, and yet all I wanted was to go back to the hotel and hide until it was time to go back to Panem tomorrow.

He probably planned to bring that girl back to his hotel room and fuck her before I had rudely interrupted. Hadn’t he basically admitted that that was how things went after games? I closed my eyes, begging myself not to imagine her exploring parts of him that I would never get to see. 

Hearing his soft sounds of pleasure. Feeling his lips on more than just her mouth…

I didn’t stop until I was outside. The blaring music quieted to a distant hum and the wind caressed my warm cheeks. I wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the chill and paced the pavement, not entirely sure of what to do next. 

I just wanted to go home.

“Katniss…”

The door swung to a slow close behind Peeta as he walked outside, standing a few feet away from me as I turned to face him. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the change in volume, or if the two of us were just that silent, but I could feel my ears ringing as we stared at one another.

He was the brave one, speaking first.

“What are you doing here?” I didn’t miss the way his eyes fell to my--_ his-- _sweatshirt, only adding to the confusion on his face.

“Nothing.”

“But--”

“It was stupid,” I replied over the top of him, wishing he would just go away and leave me alone. “I don’t know why I came.”

Peeta hesitated a moment, his hair whipping around with the cold, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m sure your..._ girl _...is waiting for you.”

“Katniss, what you saw…” He paused. “What happened...”

“You don’t need to explain to me.”

“I didn’t know that you would be here.”

I don’t know why, but his response sparks heat inside of me. Makes me absolutely boil and the controlled anger and frustration I felt welling inside of me spilled over.

“So you found the first girl available and started making out with her?” 

My response takes him aback. His expression hardened. Lips pressed into a serious line. 

“I don’t understand you. You told me the other day that I should ask Portia out on a date and now you’re mad at me because I was kissing another girl?” 

“No, really, it’s fine Peeta,” I ground out. “We’re _ just friends. _ I get it. Have fun tonight.”

“You don’t get to do that, Katniss,” he said, voice laced with frustration as he shook his head. 

“Do _ what?” _

“Act like you know what I’m thinking. You have no idea how confusing you can be. I’m not used to this--any of it. At all. And you came out of nowhere and you just--I’m just…”

His words broke and he shook his head.

“I’m so tired, Katniss. I just needed one night. One night to stop thinking.”

I swallowed, staring at him as he hung his head in defeat. 

“Stop thinking about what?” 

When he looked up, his glass eyes peered straight past mine. I watched him swallow, saw the pain in his expression as he admitted his next words. 

“You.”

* * *

Madge and Annie came back to the hotel with me even after I insisted that I could just take an Uber back by myself. 

“What kind of friends would that make us?” Annie inquired as we all piled into the back of the car. I felt the pain of finality as we pulled away from Snow’s Tavern. 

We sprawled out on the beds in the room, snacking on leftover road trip food as I told them everything, starting from the kiss and walking them all the way through to our fight.

The nauseous feeling I got retelling the events had nothing to do with the ten gummy worms I’d subconsciously eaten while talking.

Madge gave my leg a reassuring pat once I was finished and I waited for her words of wisdom to follow, but apparently she had none. The girl who had a philosophy and theory about everything for once remained silent and her bright eyes lacked their usual luster as she studied the blanket below us.

On the other bed, Annie sat with her legs folded, contemplative hands wrapped around a hot glass of complimentary tea.

“This doesn’t have to be all bad,” Madge finally said, an air of authority to her tone as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “He basically admitted to having been thinking about you constantly.” 

“Yeah, but we have no idea at what capacity.” I was playing devil’s advocate, but dammit, someone had to. “Just because you’re thinking about somebody doesn’t mean it’s good.”

“This might not make you feel better, but a kiss doesn’t always necessarily mean anything. Especially in this setting. Girls come out all the time looking for no-strings attached fun after games. If he was trying to get you off his mind, that girl might’ve just been a convenient way of doing it.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t make me feel better.” At Madge’s deep frown, I sighed. “I’m sorry. I know that I’m overreacting and we’re just friends. I mean, I told him the other day that he should ask Portia out--”

“Wait, what?”

“I know.”

_ “Katniss, _why?” 

I couldn’t sit there and admit in front of Annie that her boyfriend had gotten in my head. That he had basically told me I wasn’t good enough and would never be and should let him move on. I was trying to make an ally out of Finnick, not an enemy. 

“I guess I just figured he could do better than me,” I whispered. “That he deserved better than what I could offer.”

“That’s not true,” Madge insisted.

“Momentary lapse in judgement. I’d hoped tonight would fix all that...wrong again.”

Annie giggled from across the other bed and both mine and Madge’s heads perked up.

“Why are you laughing?” She asked.

“It’s just that…” she trailed off, biting her lip like she thought that maybe she was better off remaining silent. “Nevermind.”

_ “What?” _Madge and I asked at the same time, and Annie caved.

“You talk about feeling like you’re not enough for Peeta, but...I think he thinks he’s not good enough for _ you.” _

“What do you know, Annie?” Madge asked.

“He may have mentioned something, once. In the kitchen one morning, while Finn was still asleep. I went to get some breakfast and Peeta was in there, it seemed like he had a lot on his mind and when I asked, it all just sort of came out.” 

“What did he say?” Madge was sitting on her knees now, inching closer to the edge of the bed with eager eyes. 

“No,” I interjected, holding my hands up. I pushed myself up to a seated position on the bed, mind absolutely racing. “I feel weird having this conversation. Clearly, whatever he said wasn’t meant for me to hear.”

“Katniss,” Madge deadpanned, looking mildly disgusted at the idea of me ending the conversation. “Peeta talked about you with someone who is _ sitting right here _ and can give you the full details. And you’re saying that you are not at all curious about that conversation?”

Oh, I was one hundred percent curious. 

Peeta was the most difficult person on the planet to get a read on. Constantly I was left second guessing myself and feeling like a fool in my attempts to understand him more. But, that didn’t change the fact that he had confided in Annie privately. Whatever was said, it was under the impression that it would stay between them. 

And I was so tired of breaking his trust. 

“Long story short,” Annie began, looking to appease us both. “He’s not sure what it is you want. If you still have guilt over...everything and are trying to make it better or if you want to be friends...or if you want more. I mean, he’s never had a girlfriend before and I think he feels like you couldn’t possibly be genuinely interested either. It confuses him because I know he feels the same chemistry you describe, but he’s convinced himself that it’s made up in his mind.”

“Wait.” _ Great, now I definitely needed to pry more. _ “Peeta’s never had a girlfriend?”

Annie blushed, like she’d said too much again, and shook her head.

“But he told me…” I trailed off, avoiding their expectant eyes. I suddenly felt warmth creeping up my collarbone. “I guess I just assumed he’d had one before.”

“You’re cute,” Madge said, and her voice held no condescension, even as she squeezed my hand in hers. “I love that you think of sex and love as going hand in hand.”

I mean, I was no angel. I’d done my share of messing around with guys I had no intentions of keeping. I suppose it was wrong of me to have held Peeta to a higher standard. 

“How could he think after everything that he doesn’t deserve me?” I whispered, almost to myself, yet the question hung in the air between us. “When did he say this?”

Annie shrugged, silently calculating the timeline in her mind.

“I don’t know, two weeks ago, maybe.”

I understood why Peeta was so closed off and was scared of hurt and rejection. I knew relationships were foreign to him and that I wasn’t the first person in his past to have burned him. 

I knew it had to have taken a lot for him to open up about himself with Annie, and though I felt guilty for having played a role in betraying that trust, it came as some relief to finally have some insight of where he was coming from.

Peeta had put a tightly sealed guard up and try as I might, I hadn’t been entirely successful in knocking it down. And after tonight, I wasn’t sure how much more could truly be salvaged.

But now, I saw that there was still plenty.

“What should I do?” I asked, pulling out my phone. “Text him? Should we go back to Snow’s?” 

Annie’s petite hand rested over the top of mine, easing my phone back down onto my lap.

“You do nothing,” she spoke kindly, but firmly. 

Madge nodded slowly. “She’s right. Give it a little time. Thanksgiving is next week, it’ll be a good break for both of you. Just let it be for now, okay?” 

Waiting was not my strong suit, but the girls were right and I knew it. I took a deep breath and put the phone back down on the table, ignoring the itch my palm felt for having released it.

“In the meantime, what do you need?” Madge asked, stroking my hair as I laid back down on the bed, defeated.

I sighed deeply, staring at the ceiling.

“A time machine.”

* * *

The nightmare of last night extended to morning, when I woke with a new text message from Cashmere, sent at a bright and chirpy six-thirty this morning.

_ Cashmere (6:32am): _I know you’re in Ohio. We need to talk when you get back. 

Another message from Delly.

_ Delly (7:04am): _Did you run into anyone from Theta last night? Two of the girls said they saw you...with a drink and with Peeta.

_ Delly (7:04am): _I didn’t say anything, I swear.

I knew she didn’t. I felt so numb that I didn’t have it in me to care at the moment. I put my phone down on the nightstand and stretched back out on the bed, listening to the silence as the girls continued to sleep.

What did it matter if I got another semester of probation? I honestly couldn’t care less about missing out on parties at the frat house. The only guy I cared about seeing was the one I wasn’t talking to at the moment. 

That’s what defeat felt like, I was pretty sure, and I understood what Peeta was talking about last night.

I was tired too.

* * *

As it turned out, on probation, there was no such thing as three strikes. Probation _ was _ the third strike, and when you broke it…

“I’m sorry Katniss, but there’s nothing else that can be done,” Cashmere said, lips downcast with disappointed as she reached her hand forward and extended it. “Pin, please.”

You were out.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, please don't kill me. Remember that I love you all, haha. Happy Sunday, thanks for reading!


	11. November 26-28

* * *

_My reputations never been worse, so,_

_ you must like me for me._

-Taylor Swift 

* * *

As was stated in the Code of Conduct agreement I signed when first becoming a Theta, I had two weeks from the breach in conduct to move out of the sorority house completely. The timing of my termination made everything a little bit trickier. More than half of the campus had already left or was preparing to leave for Thanksgiving which did not make for an ideal roommate-hunting week. 

This late in the semester, moving into the dorms was impossible--I knew because I’d called the housing department three times to explain my situation and had been swiftly shut down by each and every receptionist I spoke with.

I was fairly sure that when push came to shove, if I had nowhere else to go, Cashmere would let me stay at the house until I did. But being there had become increasingly awkward by the day...and it had only been two days since the committee officially took my pin. 

Tomorrow is the last day of classes for the week, and around campus, the general feeling was one of excitement and relief. I wished I could share the sentiment. 

With everything going on with Theta, I hadn’t had much time to think through my situation with Peeta...though my mind found every spare second it had to consume myself with thoughts of him and Saturday night. I’d taken Madge and Annie’s advice to give him space to think--and to use that time to think things through for myself--but when Tuesday morning came and I saw a text from Peeta on my phone, I couldn’t help the breath that escaped me.

_ Peeta (10:45am):_ Hey

**Me (11:27am): **Hi. How are you?

_ Peeta (11:28am): _I’m okay. I was going to ask you the same, actually, lol. 

I smiled to myself, standing in the hallway as my fingers skimmed the keyboard of my text box. Did I lie and say that I was good or tell him the truth? 

**Me (11:37am): **Are you busy right now?

_ Peeta (11:40am): _I’m just heading to the library. Everything okay?

**Me (11:41am): **Can I meet you there?

_ Peeta (11:41am): _Of course. 

Twenty-five minutes later I was walking into the nearly abandoned library in the Union building, two steaming cups from _ Second Rebellion _in my hands. 

Peeta sat at his normal table, the one by the massive window that looked out into the courtyard of the school. There were a few other students occupying tables scattered around the room, lost in their own world with earbuds in and heads buried into their computers.

He looked up as I approached, taken aback by my extended hand as I offered the coffee cup to him.

“What’s this for?” he asked, accepting it.

I sat down across from him and scooted my chair in closer to the table.

“A peace offering. And a very pathetic and cheap apology.”

“Katniss, you don’t have to apologize to me.”

“Yes, I do. I’ve messed up so much, Peeta, and every time it feels like I’m bouncing back things just get worse. Saturday was...I’m sorry. It wasn’t the time to start that while you were out celebrating.”

“I’m sorry too, for getting upset. I was caught off guard and I took it out on you, that wasn’t right.” He sighed deeply through his nostrils. “I wish that I had known you were coming.” 

“Would it have mattered?”

“Yes. Katniss I…” he stopped and pushed a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t in a good place either. We won the game, and that was a really awesome feeling, but mentally I just...was overwhelmed. I know it’s stupid--”

“It’s really not.”

“That girl approached me at the party. She was just looking to have fun. Same as almost everyone who goes out with the team after games. I’m not making excuses, just explaining.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation.” I tried insisting, but Peeta shook his head in disagreement before continuing.

“I want to give you one.” And his eyes held such intense sincerity that I remained silent and listened. “I used to do that a lot, my freshman year, and for a while it felt good but somewhere along the way it stopped feeling good and so I stopped...but last weekend I just needed...something.”

I exhaled, grasping my cup tightly as I studied the fine lines in the table.

“Much good that did, huh?” I teased, dryly, and Peeta laughed, the action strained as he nodded in agreement.

“After our argument, I went back to the hotel. Alone...” he admitted, stressing the last word quietly. Though I didn’t have any right or claim on this boy, I felt intense relief at his words. 

“I’m not in Theta anymore.” The words came out before I could stop them. 

“You quit?” he sounded shocked.

“Not exactly. After last weekend, I broke probation, so I was kicked out. But, it’s okay. I’m actually weirdly relieved? I don’t know, I felt kind of stuck there...like I couldn’t just up and leave because that was all I’d ever known. But, not being given a choice was freeing in a way.”

“Where are you going to stay?” He asked the question I’d been dreading since my status as a Theta was revoked. I wasn’t entitled to receive any money back for what I spent on housing, which only made my situation dicier. My only options at this point were to ask around the friends I had from class to see if anyone was looking for a roommate or willing to help me out until the beginning of next semester.

So far, I had been unsuccessful.

“I have two weeks to make arrangements and move out of Theta completely,” I said, trying not to sound too panicked about the short deadline. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Do you know anyone who is looking for a roommate?”

“I asked a few friends,” I replied lamely, choosing to omit the fact that I’d also taken to Instagram to let virtual strangers know I was in need of a place as well.

I felt the urge to calm the look of concern in his gaze as he studied me across the table. Brushing him off with a casual wave of my hand, I promised him it wasn’t a big deal and something would turn up.

Hopefully.

“You’re just staying in the sorority house until then?” he asked after a moment, his mind seemingly still on the subject. I pressed the cup of tea to my lips before giving a short nod.

“That has to be weird.”

“It’s not the most comfortable living arrangement,” I agreed. _ But neither was living on the street. _

He hesitated a moment, tapping his pencil against the table wordlessly, lips pressed into a hard line.

“What if…” he trailed off, and because I had an idea of where he was going with this, I didn’t rush him. “I mean, you could stay with us until you find something.”

“I don’t know, Peeta,” I said, biting my lip. The offer was tempting, yes, but things between Peeta and I were rocky at best. I felt like I was skating on the thinnest piece of ice waiting for it to crack completely in terms of him.

“It’s just temporary,” he reiterated. 

“What about Finnick and Gale?”

I was still extremely unsure of where I stood among his friends. Things seemed relatively stable with Gale, and Finnick and I had had that nice moment in Ohio, but it was hard to tell whether it had been genuine or the aftereffect of having won their game and indulging in alcohol. 

Either way, the last thing I needed was for them to think that I was using Peeta for my advantage the way Finnick had accused me of doing the night of the dinner party. 

“They’ll understand,” he promised. At my look of disbelief he ran a hand over his neck. “...I’ll talk with them about it first.”

“Good idea.” I agreed.

We fell into the comfortable silence of class work. Me, trying not to focus on my unstable living arrangements, and Peeta occasionally texting as his phone continued to buzz with incoming messages.

It was nice to be back in some semblance of a routine again, even if it was as simple as this. Peeta’s presence and this setting calmed me, and for a moment I was able to forget about all of my other stresses and just focus on the paper in front of me. 

“Okay.”

We’d been silent for so long that when Peeta closed his notebook and slid it into his backpack, I blinked with confusion. 

“...Okay?” I parroted. 

“They said it’s fine for you to stay at the apartment while you look for somewhere else to live permanently.”

“You _ already asked?” _

Peeta looked startled by my reaction, his eyes shifting.

“Yes. Did you not want me to?” 

Oh god, I must’ve looked so desperate. What had Peeta said to get them to agree? Thinking back to how rapidly his fingers had been moving, all of the back and forth, how many times his phone buzzed in the last half hour...it couldn’t have been an easy discussion.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said slowly, still unsure despite the fact that I was packing up alongside him. 

“I would do it for any of my fr--” He cut himself off before he could finish the sentence, and a blush bloomed on his cheeks as he scratched the back of his neck. 

The absence of the word hung in the air between us.

Friend. _ Friend. _

He hadn’t said it because he felt the same thing I did.

The definition of our relationship might have still been up in the air, but one thing was for sure.

Whatever it was, it was definitely more than friendship. 

* * *

It didn’t take long for me to get all of my things from Theta--there wasn’t much there to begin with. I packed up my clothing and other belongings I’d brought with me to Panem and stuffed it all into the back of Peeta’s truck.

Delly helped, her eyes glassy as she stared at the blank half of the room, void of any personality.

“Don’t be sad,” I told her when she wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace. It felt far too final when I knew I’d see her again tomorrow night at pilates. “You get to finish out college with your own bedroom. That’s a huge bonus.”

“A well deserved one,” she sniffed. “But, I think I might go back to rooming with Cashmere and let one of the other upperclassmen take this room. I’m not meant for solitude.”

I laughed, because she was right. Delly was the most social girl I knew. I don’t think she could stand being alone much. It made her laugh too, a choked sound as she wiped her eyes and gave me another hug.

“I’m sorry it went down this way,” she whispered into my hair, but I shook my head, refusing to be sad.

“I’m not,” I promised her. “I think it will be a good thing.”

“I bet you do.” she smiled, mischievously. “Moving in with Peeta, and all.”

“Just temporarily.”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious._ ” _

“Uh huh.” 

As if on cue, Peeta reappeared in the doorway of the bedroom and offered to bring the pillows underneath my arms down into the truck. The very last of my items. Delly gave me a coy look from the corner of her eye that made my skin prickle as I scowled back at her.

“I’ve got them, thanks.”

“Okay,” he said, lingering uncomfortably with his hands stuffed down into his pockets. “That everything?”

I nodded.

“I’ll meet you in the car, then. Take your time.” 

He turned to disappear, anxious to be out of the sorority house, I was sure. Several heads stuck out from down the hallway to watch his departure before multiple sets of eyes fixated on me.

“Unbelievable.” Octavia shook her head. “How did you manage to convince the guy you pranked to give you a place to stay? Only you.”

A few of the other girls snickered in agreement and I hated it. I hated that their perception of me was boiled down to that. Manipulative. Tricky. Seductive. Life was one big game.

I didn’t want to be that person anymore. 

I looked at girls like Delly, Cashmere and Maysilee. They threw themselves into sorority life and had gotten so much out of it. Started outreach projects and raised money for really good charities. They encompassed the spirit that Theta Kappa Phi was meant to represent. 

I wished that I could’ve said the same for me, but it was true that unfortunately this life had brought out an ugly side in me. One of competition and superiority. 

I was tired of feeling ashamed about who I was.

The girls swarmed around me to say their goodbyes, some even crying, like I was never going to see them again because I wasn’t in Theta anymore. No, it wouldn’t be the same, but change was a good thing.

“Why does it feel like Katniss is Snow White, riding off into the sunset with her prince and we’re all the dwarfs lining up for our kiss goodbye?” Clove mused, making the other girls giggle. 

I placed a hand on either side of her cheeks and brought her forehead to my lips with a firm kiss.

“Behave. One of us has to make it out of probation alive.”

“I’ll try. No promises.”

I picked up my pillows, stuffing one under each arm and gave one last wave goodbye before descending down the staircase and out the front door for the final time.

I let out a held breath when I walked out into the biting cold. 

It was for the best.

It was going to be good.

+++

Walking into Peeta’s apartment managed to feel both familiar and new at the same time. 

We stood in the threshold as Peeta flipped on a light and illuminated the kitchen. 

“Welcome home.”

The sun had already begun to set, outside the large window in the living room the sky was painted streaks of indigo and orange. It struck me fully then how real it was that I was at Peeta’s apartment...and I was staying. 

I let out a long breath, unable to hide my relief. 

“I’ll go down and get the rest of your stuff from the car,” Peeta said, shaking the snow off of his boots as he ushered me further into the apartment. “Let’s get you settled into my room, first...”

His words trailed off when he realized the implication behind them and I caught him blushing as he tried to right himself.

“I mean...alone, of course.” He shook his head a little, and started over. “I’ll sleep in the loft.” 

My eyebrows furrowed in dismay. I’d seen that couch, and though it looked nice it was more of a loveseat than anything else. There was no way he’d be able to fit on it comfortably.

“Peeta, no. You’re already doing so much by letting me stay. I can sleep in the loft.”

“You should have a door,” he said. “And a bathroom. It’s fine, I’ve fallen asleep up there before.”

I flushed, embarrassed to be putting him out in such a massive way. That wasn’t even taking Gale and Finnick into consideration. I heard movement from down the hallway and tensed, worried about the inevitable awkwardness my stay would create for them too. 

I could make myself scarce. Tomorrow after class, I could go to the library or _ Second Rebellion _and apartment hunt there for a while. Maybe Delly would want to grab dinner or something. 

“I talked with housing, they said they could get me into the dorms next semester. I know that’s still several weeks away, but at least it’s an end date. In the meantime, I’ll keep searching for other arrangements. I feel really bad putting you out, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You need a place to stay.”

But it wasn’t his job to provide that, I fought the urge to say. There were other, less ideal, options. Most of the neighboring apartments surrounding campus were grossly out of my budget or host to extremely sketchy living situations. Wiress probably would’ve let me crash with her, but selfishly I was hoping for something else to come along that wouldn’t leave my clothes reeking of weed. 

Peeta had been the very last option I didn’t even know I’d had, but it was awkward to accept help from him. I was racking up quite the debt in owed favors to him. 

Finnick was in his room with the door opened as we passed by. Jacket and sneakers on already, filling a backpack up with clothing. Peeta ushered me past him and opened the door leading into his bedroom.

“Is Finnick leaving because of me?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“No,” Peeta promised. “He’s going home for the holidays. Gale, too.”

“You’re not leaving?”

“Too far,” he explained and I completely understood. “My family is coming this weekend for the game, though.”

“Oh.” It was like Peeta could sense the unease in my expression and the way my brain was trying to work everything out, because before I could ask he was answering my unspoken question.

“They’re staying in a hotel, no worries.” 

“Okay.”

If the Nightlock’s had a game this weekend, that meant Gale and Finnick would likely be returning sometime Friday. Which meant it would be two nights of just Peeta and I occupying the apartment. 

“I’ll let you settle in,” he said, lingering in the doorway but not fully coming inside. 

“Okay. Peeta?”

He started to turn around and then let out a low noise from deep in his chest when my arms wrapped around his body suddenly. For a moment, he stood frozen as I embraced him, arms suspended mid-air, back stiff, heart pounding.

It was a split second decision I’d made to hug him, but words of gratitude were failing me and I had the strong urge to be close to him.

I studied the wall, cheek pressed to the center of his chest, and the breath stuttered out of me when I felt his strong arms encase me back.

He was so warm. So solid. Standing there in his embrace made me feel the safest I’ve dared to since Dad’s death. I closed my eyes, trapping the tears that threatened to spill onto his t-shirt and was relieved that he didn’t pull away. That he sensed somehow it was what I needed, and didn’t make me feel awkward about it. 

His hand traced a calming pattern on the center of my back, slow and soothing circles that I reveled in.

When we broke apart, he smiled down at me tentatively before clearing his throat.

“I’ll just...I’ll go get the rest of your things, okay?”

“Thank you.”

He shut the door behind him but left the warmth of his touch in the air surrounding me. I felt warm from the inside out. My cheeks felt prickly they were so hot and an electric buzz waded through my belly.

I sat on top of his bed to give my wobbly legs a chance at recovery and exhaled deeply as I fell back to stare up at the ceiling. 

Laying there, it dawned on me that that was our first true hug.

There was something magical about that, I thought. The idea that it hadn’t been tainted by lies or fears or tension. 

It was the realest thing I’d ever felt. 

When Peeta failed to return with my things, I decided to check and see if he needed help. Coming down the hallway, I heard two muffled voices which were clearly engaged in conversation. I stopped in my tracks at the mention of my name and held my breath to listen. 

“Are you sure that this is a good idea?” It was Finnick’s melodic voice that sounded from the kitchen.

“No,” Peeta admitted and for a moment, the pair was silent. “But there was no other choice. She doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“I get it. That’s tough. What’s her plan?”

I almost gave myself away by scoffing. My plan? It felt like any semblance of a plan I had was blown to little pieces.

“She’s trying to get into the dorms next semester.”

“...The _ dorms?” _ There was notable disgust in his tone as he said the words. Rightfully, so. It was a far fall down to be crawling back to the dorms midway through Junior year. 

“She doesn’t have many options.”

Finnick sighed. “I have to get going, but I’ll talk with Annie, okay? See if maybe there’s room with her and Madge.”

“That would be great, Finnick.” 

“You going to be okay while we’re gone?”

“I think we’ll manage.” Peeta’s voice was laced with sarcasm and I fought the urge to laugh. “Thanks.”

“Condoms are in the shared bathroom, you know...just in case.” I couldn’t hear Peeta’s response, but Finnick started laughing and I figured it was as good a time as any to walk in.

I feigned obliviousness to their previous conversation as I strode into the kitchen. Peeta’s face was flushed from his neck to the tips of his ears and despite noting my presence, his eyes wouldn’t meet mine. I bit my lip to keep from smiling, and regarded Finnick instead.

“Thanks for letting me stay here,” I said, folding my arms across my body protectively. “I hope I’m not putting you out too much.”

“It’s no problem.” Something about the way he said it had me inclined to believe him. “Alright, I have to get on the road. I have a wicked long trip ahead of me.”

“How far away is home?” I asked.

“Twenty minutes,” Peeta answered for him, with a roll of his eyes. Finnick smirked, tossing his backpack over one shoulder before throwing us a wave goodbye as he went for the door.

Silence radiated through the house with his departure. When I stole a glance up at Peeta, he looked just as unsure as I felt. 

“Do you need anything?” he asked after a moment, scratching the back of his neck.

“I wouldn’t mind taking a shower,” I admitted. I hadn’t all day and between that and all of the moving, I’d certainly felt fresher. 

“Of course.” Peeta moved down the hallway quickly, supplying me with towels in varying sizes and a new bar of soap.

“You know your way around the bathroom,” he said, motioning towards the open door to his bedroom with hands stuffed down in his pants pockets. “I’ll get started on dinner in the meantime. Does spaghetti sound okay?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” He lingered a moment before giving a slight shake of his head and retreating down the hallway. I watched him leave, the way his broad shoulders tensed beneath the fabric of his sweater. How nice his ass looked from within his jeans…

There was something extremely intimate about showering in the same bathroom Peeta Mellark did. I stood in the center of the bathroom, stripped down to nothing, and couldn’t help but think that he did the same exact thing every day. The thought alone sent a tingle of warmth down to the pit of my stomach, one I quickly brushed away.

Friends don’t think about other friends naked in the shower. Definitely not.

Peeta was not a big fan of clutter. It was obvious in the simplicity of his bedroom and carried over into the bathroom. He had three bottles inside of the shower total, shampoo, conditioner and soap. That was it.

I couldn’t help but giggle a little as I struggled with all of my hair and skin products, fighting to find enough space to house them all. 

Perhaps it was time for a downsize.

I took my time in the shower, for the first time in what felt like months actually allowing myself to relax. The spray was a gentle massage on my scalp and I took the extra minutes to deep condition my neglected hair, shave and even exfoliate after. 

When I’d finished toweling off, I let out a content sigh and slipped into a pair of comfortable sweatpants. I brushed through my hair before it had the chance to get tangled and pulled it into a single braid down my back. I wiped away some of the condensation that had formed on Peeta’s mirror and studied myself. 

It was the first time since freshman year that I actually resemble myself. No fancy hair and clothes. Just me. Looking like I could be back in Pittsburgh, about to go hunting with Dad, and for that reason alone, it calmed me. 

I could smell dinner from down the hallway as soon as I opened the bedroom door. Peeta gave me a double take when I rounded the corner into the kitchen and offered a hesitant smile.

“You look nice,” he complimented and I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes.

“Are you being sarcastic?” I teased, pulling one of the bar stools out that sat tucked beneath the kitchen island and sitting down.

“No,” he insisted, looking startled by the accusation. “You just look comfortable. It’s nice.”

After joining Theta, it wasn’t often I was willing to be seen without makeup on. I definitely never went in public bare faced, except for maybe the gym. But after two long years of putting up a front as to who I was and always being concerned with the outward picture perfect appearance, I was tired. Keeping up the appearances expected of a Theta when I was no longer one felt like hiding at this point. It was long past due that I tried to recenter myself back to who I used to be.

And it felt nice to be given validation to do so.

“I am comfortable,” I admitted, before turning my attention back to the kitchen. “The food smells good.” 

Peeta couldn’t hide the smile that rose to his lips with my praise. 

He took a sharp knife out of the block that sat on the counter and made quick work of peeling and mincing an onion. I watched his thick forearms as he worked and the way his large hands moved smoothly and skillfully around the cutting board until the entire thing was chopped.

He did the same thing with the garlic, celery and carrot until there was an array of diced vegetables in a heap on the tray, waiting to be mixed in.

“Do you want any help?” I asked.

“The meatballs are in the oven now. You can help me with the sauce if you’d like?”

“The sauce?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. “That sounds like a key component that you don’t want to mess up. I was thinking more along the lines of chopping anything else up?”

“It’s nothing fancy, trust me,” he laughed, coaxing me into the kitchen. 

I pulled my sleeves up and washed my hands before moving to stand beside Peeta over the stove. He handed me a long wooden spoon and the diced onion and garlic. 

“Add that into the pot and let it settle. You can stir it around a little if you’d like. We’re going to let it heat until it’s nearly translucent.”

I nodded, dutifully dropping the ingredients into the pot as instructed. As I stirred, he started on the pasta and I liked the simplicity of us moving around each other in the kitchen, working on the same goal as soft music hummed in the background. 

“Are you upset you didn’t get to go home for Thanksgiving?”

“A little bit,” Peeta admitted. “My brother and his family are back in Virginia for a visit. It would have been nice to see them and my nieces.”

“Where do they live?” 

“In Austin. Him and his wife have two little girls and she’s pregnant with a third.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the image of Peeta as an uncle. Even long distance, I imagined him to be attentive and doting. The kind of uncle who called regularly and knew little details like their favorite movies and ice cream flavor. 

“I bet you’re a fun uncle,” I mused aloud and Peeta’s distant smile was wistful, like he was picturing them in his mind as we spoke.

“I love it. Wish I got to see them more often.”

“What made them move to Austin?” 

“Work,” Peeta answered vaguely and my mind immediately shifted to the conversation I’d had with Madge and Annie on the way to Ohio. 

With everything else that had happened between now and then, I’d almost forgotten that his family bakery was a multi-million dollar company_ . _

“Does he work for your family’s bakery, too?” I questioned, suddenly very interested in my nails as I studied them. I could feel the heat of his gaze rest on me, the surprise there as he tried to figure out how I knew.

“When were you going to tell me that your family owned _ Songbird’s?” _I quirked a brow and Peeta’s signature blush was making its way back up his neck.

“Who--?”

“Madge and Annie.”

“Should’ve known,” he muttered, and then looked apologetic. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to hide it, I just...when you lead with that, sometimes it gives the wrong impression.”

I understood that. Peeta was already reluctantly popular around campus. I could only imagine how that popularity would grow if the knowledge of his family’s wealth was active. 

It endeared me to him all the more, the way he didn’t flaunt his money in order to get what he wanted. It was so easy to do--I’d experienced it. I was unable to hide the smile on my lips.

“I understand.”

He looked relieved that I wasn’t angry, and his tight shoulders relaxed. 

“To answer your question, though, he does work for the bakery. A new location was opened in Austin the year I graduated high school, and he moved there to spearhead the project.”

“That must’ve been hard for your parents. Having you both leave at the same time.”

“Yeah,” Peeta admitted. “Especially with the girls being so little. But Mom and Dad get to see them more than I do. They visit Austin as often as they can, a handful of times each year. And Bannock brings the family to see them a lot too. But now with school and football, I don’t get to do nearly as much as I used to.”

“How old are they?”

“Bialy just started kindergarten,” he boasted, proudly. “And Penia is two and a half.”

Just babies when they moved, then. 

“Fun ages,” I said absently before my eyebrows wrinkled. “Those are really...unique names.”

Peeta looked chagrin, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck with embarrassment.

“Yeah, uh they’re types of bread,” he laughed. “It’s sort of a...strange family tradition.”

“Wow.” 

“I already reserved Brioche and Sour Dough for my kids, so it was slim pickings.” 

I laughed out loud, a true genuine sound and it made Peeta’s grin widen and his ears turn pink. 

“Well, I can’t really judge. My parents named my sister and I after plants. So, I guess we are both just products of our environment.” 

“Yeah,” Peeta chuckled. “I guess so.”

I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, studying him a moment longer than necessary before clearing my throat and turning back to the pan.

“These look pretty translucent, wouldn’t you say?” 

I nearly stopped breathing at his close proximity as he moved in closer to lean over my shoulder and peer inside of the pot. He smelled _ so good. _

“That will do it. Next goes the celery and carrots. A little salt and pepper, too.”

“Yes, chef.”

Once all the vegetables had married, Peeta had me add in the tomatoes until everything was simmering nicely together inside of the pot. He pulled a bottle of wine down from on top of the refrigerator and popped the cork off before handing it to me.

Confusion must have been written on my face, because Peeta laughed before instructing me to pour some into the sauce.

“It’s cooking wine.”

“How much?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Experiment.”

“That’s dangerous,” I warned him, dumping just a little into the sauce. “I’m not on probation, anymore.”

Peeta laughed and surprised me when he came to stand directly behind me and placed a hand over mine on the bottle, helping me to pour more into the sauce. 

“Don’t be shy,” he said quietly and his breath tickled my exposed skin. I felt it pebble and my cheeks heat from more than just being in front of the stove. 

Peeta placed a lid over the top of the sauce and claimed that our work was done for the next hour or so while everything cooked.

"Am I as good of a sous-chef as Portia?" I inquired, immediately wondering why I had a knack for spitting out whatever thoughts came to mind.

Peeta stiffened at the mention of her name and he nodded, scratching the back of his head. Great, now I'd made things awkward. I just couldn't seem to help but turn into a complete and total idiot in his--

"Katniss?" My name sounded anxious on his lips, and when I looked up his eyes wouldn't meet mine.

"I just want you to know," he started, and then stopped himself. Deep breath, then continued. "There's nothing going on between Portia and I. We're just friends."

"I think she might want more," I whispered, because it was true and Peeta could be oblivious to female attention. Sometimes, it was better to just lay everything out.

"Either way," he continued, his low voice matching the aroma of the room. "I don't."

The silence that followed stretched, and then it was just the quiet music and the low simmer of our cooking sauce.

"I just...wanted you to know."

"Okay," I whispered, stomach somersaulting. "Thank you."

He made a soft noise of acknowledgement in the back of his throat before clearing it and moving to peer inside of the fridge.

"Do you need anything to eat while we wait?" he asked, peering into the fridge to check its contents. He gave the back of his head a scratch as he looked inside. “I need to go shopping. We’ve got grapes, some cheese sticks...one of Gale’s protein smoothies but trust me, you don’t want that.”

“Grapes are fine.”

He pulled some out and put them into a bowl for me before resting his elbows on the counter top across from me. I snuck a glance over at Peeta while I ate my grapes, admiring his sweater and the way it fit him nicely, accentuating his broad shoulders and arms. 

He caught me staring and immediately started pulling at the shirt--self consciously brushing away imaginary particles from it as he straightened his posture. 

“Do I have something on me?” 

“No, I just like your sweater. Green is my favorite color.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, it reminds me of the woods back home. My dad built my sister and I a tree house in the ones behind our yard. We used to play in it all the time.” 

“Wow. He built it?”

I nodded, a strange sense of pride washing over me with the memory. 

“It took all spring and most of summer. I helped him...sort of,” I laughed. “But my mom used to have to practically drag me and Prim out of it to get us to come in at night. It was our secret place.”

“Is it still there?”

“I think so.” I hoped so. It had gotten old and weak in spots by the time I was in high school, but I tried my best to maintain it. Since I left for college, I could only assume it was in need of repairs. Prim could barely _ look _ at a spider, let alone clean an entire tree house out each spring. 

“I always found it neat how something as simple as a color can evoke strong memories,” he said thoughtfully after a minute. 

“You’ve been hanging out with Madge too long,” I joked and Peeta laughed, a light action mostly through his nose and his lips turned up.

“Maybe so.”

He glanced back to check the timer and then took a sip of the water he brought each of us. 

“You mentioned once, a while ago, that you used to do archery. Did you ever hunt? Or was it just sport?”

“We hunted--my dad and I. He taught me how. Winter was his favorite time, actually, because the snow made prey stand out easier. It also made us stand out easier, so we had to get more creative. We’d climb up trees or make hideouts in the taller bushes.”

“Did you ever get anything?”

“All the time.”

“What’s the best thing you caught?”

“I was pretty good at catching rabbits. My dad said the traps I made were better than some of his professional buddies. We ate the meat a lot in winter and Dad would sell the fur for extra money, but I stopped setting traps after a while. It upset Prim too much.”

“That was something I needed to get past too when I got into the culinary program,” Peeta laughed, quietly. “It’s a little harder to prepare a meal when you’ve seen the face first.”

“Prim is vegan now for that very same reason.” I joked.

“Huh,” Peeta hummed thoughtfully. I turned to look at him, to get a read on him, but he brushed the sound off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I have a good vegan cookie recipe. I’ll send it to you for your sister, if she’d like.”

I smiled at his thoughtfulness, feeling the warmth of it spread through me.

“I think she’d love that, thank you.”

His eyes bored into mine a moment before he turned hastily back to the food simmering on the stove.

“Do you like olives?”

“Love them.”

“Last step then is to add the olives and bay leaves. Then we’ll be ready to eat.” 

The spaghetti was delicious, topped with fresh Parmesan and meat balls with a side of toasted garlic bread. Peeta and I gorged on the food in the living room, with the company of Netflix, and I couldn’t remember a time I’d felt more comfortable during my time in Wisconsin. 

The way I had to slurp the long noodles made him laugh, and I teased him for how he cut into his. Occasionally, our feet would brush each other's from where they were both propped up on the plush ottoman and eventually my big toe rested continually against his.

We both had classes in the morning, and though the eight am start time would be a break to Peeta’s typical 4:30 wake up call for practice, we turned in shortly after dinner was cleaned up.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to sleep in the loft?” I asked one last time as I was rounding the corner of the hallway and Peeta was about to make his way up. “I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”

“Of course not,” he insisted, confused that I was asking again. 

I rolled my eyes, to which Peeta smiled, but refused to give in.

“You’ll be more comfortable in a room and on a bed.”

It was a battle I wasn’t going to win, so with a sigh of defeat I gave him an agreeing nod.

“Okay. I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

“See you then,” he agreed. “Have a good night.”

“You too.”

I shut the door to Peeta’s bedroom and gave it a once over. He had a noise cancelling fan that I turned on, wondering if it had anything to do with the thin walls he’d mentioned before. The room ran warm, so I shed my sweatshirt and leggings to get more comfortable.

Crawling into Peeta’s bed with nothing but a camisole and my underwear sent a rush of warmth through me. Was it crazy that simply laying in it, _ alone even, _felt like one of the more erotic things I’d done? 

The sheets smelled like him...rustic and clean. The soft material wrapped around my body was like his strong arms and I closed my eyes, imagining him in there with me instead of upstairs.

* * *

The morning came fast, an unwelcome reality after spending the night in one of the most comfortable beds I’d ever laid in. I sprawled out in it, stretching several times before rolling out to get ready for the day ahead.

I stared at myself in Peeta’s mirror, plain faced and messy braid, and smiled. It was a liberating feeling to not spend an hour putting on makeup and fussing over my hair. I wasn’t quite brave enough to face the world completely free of care yet, though. Especially after being so recently dumped by my sorority house. People talked enough about me as it was, I didn’t need to add crack whore to the list of names they chose for me. So, I opted for a light layer of foundation and simple coat of mascara, nothing insane, but enough to make me comfortable. 

Peeta was already in the kitchen when I left the bedroom, dressed and making breakfast. Staying with him felt more like being in a hotel than a college guy’s apartment. He assured me he made eggs most mornings when I shot him a disapproving look at the dish served across the island at me. 

“It’s nothing fancy.”

“There’s cheese in these eggs, it’s fancy,” I told him around a mouthful. “Don’t spoil me this way. I’ll never leave.”

He laughed lightly, standing across the table from me to finish his breakfast before we headed out and in the direction of the main campus for class.

It surprised me that Peeta hadn’t driven to his classes. Despite the convenient location of his apartment, it was still a good twenty minute walk. But, I guess the brisk walk seemed like less of a punishment than finding a place to park his massive truck. 

We walked together, side by side making idle chit chat that felt so comfortable it made my stomach hurt until Peeta’s steps slowed a touch and he started to unconsciously veer to the right.

“This is my stop,” he said with hesitancy. 

Taking a move out of his book, I felt my hands bury themselves down into my jean pockets as I shifted on the balls of my feet.

“Okay. Well...have a good day.”

“You too. I’ll see you later tonight.” 

Right. _ Tonight. _Because I lived with him, at least for now. I was having that overwhelming feeling again, where another crash of realization was washing over me. Just last week, Peeta and I were sitting in a library studying together and I was urging him to date Portia.

Now, he’d admitted to me last night that there was nothing romantic about their relationship, at least on his end. 

_ Just so you know. _

He wanted me to know. 

So much could change in such a short amount of time. But, that seemed to be the way of our relationship, hadn’t it? One week I hadn’t known he existed, the next we were all anyone could talk about. Probation came as a thief in the night, just as my feelings for him which snuck up on me, too. Things were constantly changing, but for once this was a change that I liked. 

I could see Flavius’ wild orange hair and bright purple lips from a mile away while approaching the café inside of the Union. 

“There’s my girl,” he greeted with a grin. “Right on time.”

“I’m too predictable,” I said, accepting the hot chocolate that was ready and waiting for me.

“I’d say it’s one of your strengths,” he complimented. “I like this dressed-down version of yourself that you’re rocking.”

His pointer finger trailed up and down the length of my body pointedly, admiring the simple cable knit sweater and jeans. 

“Thanks.” 

“End of the semester killing you?” he guessed, and I tried not to be offended. He was used to the put-together look of a Theta. Pastel cardigans and dainty jewelry. Pressed ankle pants and tweed skirts. Most of the time shoes that _ clicked _ with each step. 

I shifted in my Keds. 

“Something like that.” 

“Me too,” he groaned, busying himself at the espresso machine as we talked. “Thank god it’s Thanksgiving.”

“Any plans?” I asked, conversationally.

“Going back home for a few days, and guess who’s coming with?” he bit his purple-stained lip with concealed excitement. “Castor.”

“He is?” I lit up with the news. It was a big step in their relationship, for Flavius to bring his boyfriend home to meet his family.

When he nodded in confirmation, his curls bobbed with a mind of their own.

“We’re having a spa day this afternoon in preparation. You’d think the guy had never been introduced to a pair of tweezers before. Shameful.” He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “But, enough about me. What are your plans?”

“Uh,” I stalled, feeling awkward. It wasn’t a big deal to admit I wasn’t going anywhere, but not telling Flavius that I was kicked out of Theta felt wrong. I just hadn’t planned to tell him while standing in line at the café. 

“I’m not in Theta Kappa Phi anymore,” I said quietly. “I broke probation.”

“Are you upset about it?” he asked.

I thought it over for a moment, truly debating whether or not I was.

“No, I don’t think so…”

“So maybe it was a blessing in disguise.” He shrugged his shoulders before calling out a name and sliding a hot beverage across the counter towards them. “I have to admit, those probation rules were rough. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good sorority girl but...yikes.”

“Yeah.”

“I saw Glimmer the other day.” He took a languid sip of his own coffee as he eyed me, waiting for a reaction. 

My stomach knotted at the mere mention of her name, every feeling of her last weekend in Theta resurfacing with it. I inhaled through my nose, trying not to let it show on my face how uncomfortable she made me.

As time went on and feelings had begun to heal, I felt the occasional pang of guilt for not having reached out to her at all after being expelled from Theta. Her closest friends were girls among the house, and I knew moving out couldn’t have been easy for her. But sympathy was a waning feeling. I couldn’t help but keep thinking if she had just shut up and quit arguing, she would still have a place there. 

“Oh?” I answered, noncommittally. “How is she?” 

“The same, mostly,” he said with a laugh. “Feisty as hell. She moved into a loft near the District, recently.”

“Really?” And it wouldn’t have surprised me if her parents were fronting the bill as well. 

Flavius nodded. “Said she would rather die than stay in the dorms a minute longer. She had a few people over for a house warming thing last weekend. It’s cute.”

It hurt to think that only a few months ago, Clove and I would’ve been at the top of that invite list. Probably, if we’d ever moved out of Theta, we would’ve moved in together. We’d talked about it, after graduation, many times before.

Now, the idea felt absurd to have ever considered.

“Well, good for her,” I replied, and it was. I didn’t want Glimmer to be miserable, I just didn’t want her to be a bitch as much as she constantly was. I was glad, and not surprised, that after her fallout with Theta she’d landed on her feet.

“She won’t admit it sober, but she misses the sorority,” Flavius revealed. “But, pulling back has been good for her. Don’t get me wrong, she’s still a dramatic bitch, but being kicked out has been a humbling experience for her.” 

“It’s good something finally did the trick,” I muttered, and Flavius snickered. “She didn’t seem to think she’d done anything wrong when she was dismissed.”

“She has too much pride to admit it,” he confessed before his expression turned sly. “Sort of like someone else that I know.”

I rolled my eyes, which made him laugh.

“Own it, Everdeen. Freedom looks good on you.”

“Thanks,” I said, pulling my student card out from my wallet. I was pretty sure there was a few dollars left on it before I needed to get it refilled. I just prayed that it didn’t decline.

Flavius stopped me before I could swipe it, placing his hand over the reader with a quick shake of his head.

“On the house.”

“You don’t--”

“Happy Thanksgiving. Now get out of my line. Next!” He smiled sweetly, shuffling me along so the next person could come up to the counter and order. As he saw me turn to walk away, he blew a little kiss.

  
+++

Classes for the day followed the same curriculum pattern. Test. Study. Mindless conversation. Study. Test. Study. Most of my classes had been smart and planned quizzes for Monday and Tuesday, knowing a lot of students would skip out a day early to get a longer break if they were heading home. Even I’d debated taking the day off before the _ Ohio situation _ happened. Now, I was looking for anything to keep myself busy the rest of the day.

I unsuccessfully apartment hunted and worked on my exit thesis for my Society and Natural Resources class in the library for a few hours. Took a lunch break and even treated myself to one of the jumbo chocolate chip cookies that tempted me from the small stand by the register. Walked around the snowy campus for a little while, went back and forth on whether or not to go to a kickboxing class.

I had no idea what time Peeta usually finished up class on Wednesdays and didn’t want to text and risk bothering him if he was busy. I figured it was at least safe to head over around six o’clock, seeing as that was the time he’d invited me over for the dinner party. 

It was hard to believe that had only been three short weeks ago. It felt like a lifetime had passed between now and then. 

I kept myself busy through the rest of the afternoon and when I traipsed back to Peeta’s apartment building, he buzzed me in only a few moments after I rang the bell. 

My timing seemed well played. It looked like Peeta had gotten home just ahead of me. His jacket was still on, backpack placed in the chair that sat tucked up against the kitchen island. 

He stood over the counter, with the top drawer pulled open as he stared down inside at the assortment of takeout menus. 

“Hey,” I greeted, shimmying out of my jacket and going to stand next to him. I peered over his broad arm and he pushed the menu closer to me for inspection. 

“The stores are mobbed with people doing last minute Thanksgiving shopping,” he explained. “Feel like take out?”

“You never need to ask me if I’m in the mood for Americanized Chinese food,” I teased, earning a toothy grin as he pulled out his cell phone to dial it in. 

Thirty minutes later we were lounging in the living room, takeout boxes spread across the table and balanced in our laps. 

The chicken I ordered had an extra kick to it, something I realized too late may have been a mistake. I had to keep cleansing my palate with bland rice in between bites, but still it did not do much to quell the intense heat on my tongue. When Peeta noticed me chugging my glass of water, he kindly offered to swap with me.

“You want my devil’s chicken?” I asked, disbelievingly. Peeta leaned over to pluck a piece from my box with his chopsticks. I watched as he chewed slowly, waiting for the intensity to kick in. Instead, he nodded his head and accepted my food in place of his as we swapped.

“Thanks…”

I leaned back into the couch after finishing, stuffed full and completely content to lay there watching movies lazily until it was time for bed. As Peeta finished, he rested a casual arm along the back of the couch on either side of him. I was acutely aware of the presence of his arm, even if it wasn’t technically around me or touching me. Peeta watched the movie, oblivious to our close surroundings and my internal dialogue. 

I unfolded one of the fuzzy blankets that rested over the side of the chair and wrapped it around myself before trying to focus on the movie. However, between the long day, the warmth and the heavy food in my stomach, it wasn’t long before my eyes started to feel like lead and wanted to drop closed. I felt them drooping. Felt myself blinking more frequently, but wasn’t entirely sure of when I lost the battle and caved.

When I woke up, it was slow and confusing. It took me several seconds to place where I was--on the couch in Peeta’s apartment--and that it was his chest my head laid against. His arm was resting easily around the curve of my hip, creating the perfect space for me to fit into and collect the warmth of his body.

The room was dark. Netflix had gone silent and the screensaver bounced around the television waiting for us to rouse it. 

Peeta’s breathing was steady beneath me. His chest rose and fell with gentle inhalations that caused the occasional soft rumble of a snore when he breathed in too deeply. 

I didn’t even remember falling asleep. Had I passed out first, and he just didn’t want to move me? Did we fall asleep simultaneously? Or maybe, he planned to finish the movie before waking me and ended up falling asleep himself.

I debated whether or not I could climb over his body and sneak back into his bedroom undetected. Peeta was the type of person who blushed when we held each others gazes for too long, and now my breasts were pressed up against the side of his stomach and his thick fingers teased my hip bone. Likely, he would be embarrassed when we woke up in this position. But as I attempted to maneuver myself out from the couch, it became increasingly clear that getting up without waking him would be impossible.

So, if he was going to wake up either way...I might as well just feign ignorance and go back to sleep until morning there on the couch with him. 

My body warmed at the closeness and how natural it felt. I imagined that if this were real, and Peeta was actually mine, we might fall asleep like this all of the time. Only, in a bed where one of his legs didn’t have to dangle off the edge and my ass wasn’t sinking into the crack of the cushions. 

No, we would be a tangled mess of limbs. Desperate to sleep close together despite the abundant amount of space.

I sighed, allowing myself the small luxury of feeling his heartbeat against my ear and the warmth of his body beneath my sprawled arm. 

Sleeping alone would never be the same again.

* * *

I was having one of those experiences where I was well aware that I was dreaming, but I clung to the fantasy instead of allowing myself to fully wake. 

Peeta and I were in his room, on his bed, practically naked and unbearably close. It was like our bodies were trying to morph into one. There was not a breath of space between us. 

Peeta moaned, a light and sleepy sound as our lips met and refused to part. My hands were in his hair, his were on my breasts teasingly exploring my hard nipples. 

I rocked against him and whimpered, because his cock was rubbing me in just the right spot and I could feel the shockwaves of the simple movement course from the top of my head straight to my toes. 

Peeta met my gentle thrusts with one of his own. It was clear that more was just on the horizon, but we were enjoying ourselves and the time we spent exploring one another. Teasing each other. I ground down onto his erection and--

“Shit, Katniss.”

My eyes opened and the stream of light that came pouring in through the window casted lazy sunrays across the living room.

It was morning and Peeta and I were still on the couch. 

We’d managed to tangle ourselves into an even more precarious position than when I’d last woken up. I was practically on top of him, chest to chest with his arm pinned between the couch cushion and my hip...dangerously close to cupping my ass. 

_ Maybe he had been. _

He actively was flexing his hand now to keep from touching me. 

Mine was thrown around his body, fingers resting on his shoulder just near the nape of his neck. Our pelvis’ were aligned with my leg carelessly thrown over his hips and…

Oh.

He was hard.

Realization dawned and we both fully awoke at the same time, jumping apart quickly to create space between our bodies. 

Peeta pulled the blanket up onto his lap in a not-so-casual attempt to hide his erection and I re-braided my hair, pretending not to notice. 

“Sorry,” I apologized, voice still groggy with sleep. I wasn’t sorry at all, really. Only that he seemed to be embarrassed by the contact of my body on top of his. Despite the lack of space and general discomfort a couch typically provided, it was the best. “I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

“Me neither,” he mumbled, pushing a hand through his haphazard blonde curls. 

“What was in that takeout?” I teased, breaking the tension when he finally cracked a smile and we laughed. 

“You make a good pillow,” I admitted quietly, fiddling with the sleeves of the sweatshirt I still had on. 

Peeta’s flush darkened and he fisted the blanket in his lap with nervous hands.

“You too.” The gentle admission was enough to make my day.

I got up from the couch, giving him a moment of privacy under the rouse of making tea. Peeta excused himself to take a shower with the promise of breakfast after he finished. 

I went to the hallway bathroom and brushed my teeth before heading back into the kitchen. My water had just begun boiling and I poured it into one of Peeta’s mugs, steeping it with English Breakfast when the doorbell outside buzzed loudly through the near silent apartment. I nearly spilled the mug with surprise at its suddenness. 

Peeta was still in the shower, and I couldn’t imagine he would be expecting any guests this early. Maybe it was just the mailman, and someone had a package? Or the wrong apartment had been buzzed. I waited in silence for a long moment before deciding whoever it was had left. Bringing the hot liquid to my lips, the doorbell rang again.

Dear lord, did they have to make it so _ loud? _It was an apartment, not a mansion.

I hesitated, debating whether or not it was my place to answer it while he was busy. After our already semi-awkward encounter this morning, I decided not to make it worse by bothering him in the shower and just answer the door myself.

“H-hello?” I stuttered, holding down the call button after a moment’s hesitation.

“Oops, sorry. We must have the wrong apartment. Hon, which number did you press?”

“Fifteen,” a male voice answered. “That’s what’s written down: apartment fifteen.”

“This is apartment fifteen,” I confirmed, fiddling with the end of my braid.

“Then you must’ve heard him wrong. Miss, do you know which apartment Peeta Mellark lives in?”

“Mom, how would she just _ know _ which apartment Peeta lives in?” a younger voice inquired.

“They’re neighbors, Rye. They might--”

“Mom?”

My head whipped around at the sound of Peeta’s voice and I met his puzzled expression. His blonde curls were still damp, making them a shade darker than usual, and he wore a simple pair of comfortable sweats with his t-shirt.

_ Mom. _

Peeta’s _ family _was here?

She hesitated on the other end of the intercom.

“Peeta? Is that you?”

“Uh, yeah. Hi. You’re early,” he said, stepping closer to the door to buzz them up. Obliviously, they continued to stand outside, talking through the intercom.

“There’s a girl here,” she whispered, loudly.

“We all heard her,” the young voice, Rye, replied. 

“We can hear _ you,” _ Peeta said, loudly. 

“We didn’t know you had a girl over, Peeta. We can come back later if you’re not...ready for company...”

“No, no…” his cheeks were bright red. “You’re not interrupting anything. We’re just--I buzzed you guys inside, _ come up.” _

“Is she pretty? What’s her name?”

“Mom, this is an _intercom _not a phone. She can hear you.”

“Hi, Mrs. Mellark,” I replied slowly, proving his point. I looked up at Peeta to make sure it was the right thing to do. He looked like a tomato. 

“Be right up, son.” Peeta’s father told us and a few moments later they were at the front door with arms full of groceries. 

“What is all of this?” Peeta asked, taking the bags from his mother’s arms quickly.

“Dinner.”

“You should’ve called, I would’ve brought them up for you.”

“There’s plenty more in the car, you can get those,” his younger brother snickered, sliding through the threshold in wet boots. There was no denying the two were related. They shared the same head of floppy blonde curls and bright blue eyes. When Rye smiled, I even caught Peeta’s dimples on his cheeks. 

Mrs. Mellark wrapped Peeta into a hug and pulled his face down to kiss his cheek. Then, she immediately gave his chest a repremending pat as she voiced her dislike for his beard.

“What’s wrong with it?” he laughed and she groaned.

“It’s awful. Like kissing a cactus.” 

She was a petite woman with small bones and narrow hips. Tall, somewhere around five nine if I had to guess. Between her and Mr. Mellark, it was no wonder where Peeta got his height from.

When she pulled away from him, her gaze settled on me. I shifted uncomfortably, wishing that I’d gotten dressed after brushing my teeth this morning so I wasn’t meeting Peeta’s parents in his oversized sweatshirt and leggings.

Sex clothes.

We looked totally guilty without any of the fun of having actually fooled around.

“Hi, I’m Katniss,” I greeted, tugging self-consciously on the sleeves. Her pointed features were sharp and appeared harsh, but when her lips curled up into a smile, warmth encased it.

“Hi Katniss. It’s nice to meet you.” I was taken aback when she pulled me in for a hug as well. Over her shoulder, I watched as Peeta abandoned me to get more groceries out of the car with Rye. 

I followed his mother into the kitchen, dutifully helping to put away all of the food items she’d shopped for at the local grocery store. 

“I know we’re a few days early, baby, but we hated the idea of you spending Thanksgiving all alone,” Mrs. Mellark explained when the boys got back with the last of the groceries. She shot a coy look at me through the corner of her eye. “Had we known you _ weren’t _ alone…”

“Mom,” Peeta interrupted.

The situation was painfully awkward. Not only was I crashing the little bit of family time Peeta was able to get with his busy schedule, but it was Thanksgiving, too. They’d flown midway across the country to spend the holiday with their son and brother. Not the random college girl they probably suspect banged him last night.

I could only imagine what his mother thought.

_ Jersey chaser. _

_ Gold digger. _

_ Fame seeker. _

_ Fake. _

“I’m sorry to intrude on your family time,” I said, holding a hand up apologetically. “Let me just grab my things and I can leave for--”

“Leave? You’re leaving?” she asked, eyebrows pinched. Suddenly, four sets of Mellark-blue eyes were intensely focused on me. “Stay. There’ll be more than enough food. I really don’t know how to cook in small portions.”

She laughed and I shot a look towards Peeta, gauging his reaction. His eyes were soft, lips turned up in a hopeful smile. I returned it, nervously, and he nodded his head in confirmation.

“Stay, Katniss.” 

_ How could I resist? _

“Okay. If it’s really alright.” 

“Great,” Mrs. Mellark said, clapping her hands once together. “Boys, start clearing these groceries away and make me some space. We’ve got to start cooking. Bran, what did you do with those garlic cloves? I want Peeta to mince them…”

I watched the calculated chaos begin and couldn’t help smiling to myself. 

I guess I was having Thanksgiving with the Mellark's. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Happy Friday! After all the stress of the last chapter, I couldn't leave you all hanging until Sunday. I am very sorry that I wasn't able to respond to all of your comments last chapter. I was very busy this week trying to get this one edited. But just know that I truly appreciate each and every one. Thank you guys, I can't tell you how much it means to me. 
> 
> Also, reached over 10k hits? Insanity. Thank you. 
> 
> Enjoy your weekend, friends! :)


	12. November 28-29

* * *

_Give me just a little of your love, baby._

-HAIM

* * *

I learned quickly that when it came to the kitchen, the Mellarks were very serious. 

Mrs. Mellark made a dance of getting around, instantly comfortable taking over the space. She moved from the oven to baste the turkey over to the sink to wash and chop greens, all while humming along to the quiet Christmas music playing in the background.

“We should be ready to eat by five,” she claimed, peering down at her wrist to check the time. 

“I see where Peeta gets his natural culinary skills, Mrs. Mellark,” I joked, nudging Peeta with a little smirk. 

“Call me Evelyn,” she insisted, wiping her hands off on the apron tied around her waist. “And I’m not so sure I would call them _ natural _ skills. He used to burn bread like it was his job.” 

“I hated making bread,” Peeta groaned, the amusement in his voice too palpable to be taken seriously. “Or maybe bread hated me.”

“Either way, we donated _ a lot _ of it to the farm a couple of towns over,” Mr. _ call-me-Bran _Mellark said, laughing at the memory. “They used to feed it to the pigs.”

“Yeah, I think they miss you there, Peet,” Rye snickered. “There hasn’t been many trips to the farm since you left.” 

“That’s because Mom and Dad got smart and keep _ you _ out of the kitchen,” Peeta teased back, ruffling his little brother’s hair. 

“Do you work in the bakery at all, Rye?” I asked as Peeta and I rolled out dough for pie crust. Peeta was doing most of the work. He showed me how to knead the dough without overworking it and any time he noticed my mixture getting too sticky, he would casually sprinkle flour into the center of it. 

“Not if I can help it,” he muttered, sitting across the island with Bran, ripping up bread into small pieces for the stuffing. 

I laughed at his candor. 

“I thought you liked making frosting,” Evelyn tried, but Rye only rolled his eyes.

“I like _ eating _ the frosting.”

“As you can see, he’s not as motivated by the culinary arts as his brothers,” Bran said. 

“It’s boring,” he shrugged.

“Sure, creativity and job security is boring,” he sighed, which made Peeta chuckle. 

“No offense, but I don’t want to work for you and Mom,” Rye said, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“None taken.”

He tossed the last of his loaf into the large bowl and dusted off his hands.

“Can I be done now?”

“Yes,” Evelyn groaned.

“Peeta, can I play some video games upstairs?”

“Sure. Do you remember how to turn them on?”

Rye cast him a look of pure disgust over his shoulder, already halfway to the staircase.

_ “Duh.” _

“He gives us a run for our money,” Evelyn said with a deep exhale, once he was out of ear shot. “Serves us right for not using birth control.” 

“Amen.”

_ “ _ Jesus, _ Mom,” _Peeta said, joining in on my instant laughter despite himself. Evelyn looked unfazed by his reaction, and Bran let out a low chuckle of his own.

“What? I’m just saying that it pays to think ahead. _ Condoms break sometimes.” _

“I need you to stop,” Peeta insisted. “You are distracting me in the worst possible way.”

“Focus,” she scolded him, opening the oven to check on the turkey. “Dessert is the most important part of the meal.”

While Bran and Evelyn stuffed the turkey, Peeta taught me how to roll the pie dough straight into the dish without tearing it. Once they were prepped and ready to bake, I excused myself to freshen up and change before dinner. 

I had barely turned down the hallway when I heard Evelyn stage whisper, _ she’s a doll. _

It was only after I was safely locked away behind the closed door of Peeta’s room that I allowed myself to smile. Full blown, teeth flashing, cheek numbing smile. I knew it dangerous to pine after his mother’s praise, like we were dating and her opinion of me mattered…

But it _ did _ matter. 

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and was surprised to see a missed call from Madge. It was strange enough that she was calling--she’d only ever texted--but the fact that it was Thanksgiving added an entire extra layer of bizarreness and I worried if she was okay. 

The message was from two hours ago.

I put the phone up to my ear and listened to it ring. On the third, Madge picked up and it was difficult to tell whether she was laughing or crying.

“Madge?”

“Hey Katniss.” She was laughing. I breathed a sigh of relief before sitting on the edge of Peeta’s bed. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“You too.” I smiled, still confused over the social call but relieved that it didn’t seem to be over anything urgent. “Did you go home for the weekend?”

“No, I’ll go home next month. I’m with Gale and his family.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Are you having a good time?”

“It’s been good. Tomorrow we’re taking his little sister, Posy, ice skating.”

“I can’t imagine Gale on ice skates.”

Madge snorted. “He’s not too pleased, but he has trouble saying no to the people he loves.” 

I laughed, enjoying hearing from her despite curiosity still gnawing at me.

“So...when were you going to tell me that you were homeless?” 

Ah, there it was.

I played with my hair nervously, glad we weren’t face to face to squelch some of the awkwardness of the conversation.

“I’m not in my sorority anymore,” I said, lamely. 

“That’s what I heard. Because of Ohio?”

I bit the corner of my lip.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, Katniss. I didn’t realize it was so serious.”

“You didn’t force me to go.” I promised, trying to silence some of the anxiety I heard in her voice. “I made the choice, knowing fully well the consequences.”

“Have you found a place yet?”

“Nothing permanent,” I sighed. “I’m staying with Peeta for now.” 

“Okay, cool. I get back tomorrow night, you can move in then or Saturday morning. Whichever works.”

Momentarily, I was stunned into silence.

“Move in with you and Annie?”

“Rent is already paid through the first of the year, so don’t worry about that. We have a spare bedroom we’ve been thinking of renting anyways, so if it works out you can just stay and not bother with the dorms. You’re not allergic to cats, are you? Because I have one.”

“No.” My mind was going a mile a minute, trying to process what she was telling me. That I didn’t need to be worried anymore. That everything was going to work out.

“Perfect.” 

“I...I don’t know what to say, Madge.”

“Say you’ll move in.”

“Yes, of course, thank you. And thank Annie for me, too. I appreciate it so much.”

“How funny is this, though? We live together, our boyfriends live together…” I could practically hear her smiling through the phone. 

“Peeta is not my--”

“Details, details. Speaking of, I want them all when I get home. I have to go now, I’m sure you do too, but I just wanted to call and let you know you won’t be homeless anymore.”

“You have no idea what a burden you’ve taken off my shoulders.”

“It’ll be fun, I think. Now go enjoy the rest of your Thanksgiving.”

“You too.”

“Oh, and Katniss? I know we’re new friends and all, and I hope that I’m not overstepping...but this week, while you’re at Peeta’s house? Don’t suggest he asks out other women, okay?” 

I laughed, nodding despite the fact she couldn’t see it before replying into the phone.

“I won’t. See you tomorrow.”

“Night.”

I hung up the phone and fell back onto Peeta’s mattress, unable to help or even care how my arms and legs flailed in a ridiculously happy dance.

Finally. _ Finally, _things felt like they were piecing together. 

+++

The moment I stepped out of Peeta’s room, I was greeted by the delicious aroma of food. 

Bran had just pulled the turkey from the oven while Evelyn busied herself with tossing up a salad. Peeta used one of his clean bed sheets as a tablecloth, spreading it over the coffee table and arranging pillows for me, Rye and him to sit on while Mr. and Mrs. Mellark took the couch. 

One of the more fascinating and admirable qualities I was learning about the Mellarks was their lack of pride. I had an inkling that their usual Thanksgiving dinners were far more elaborate and held more finesse than a ragtag meal at the living room table, but they rolled with the punches, more preoccupied with spending time together than worrying over trivial matters. 

“Sorry I took so long,” I said as I walked into the kitchen.

“A woman should never be rushed when getting ready,” Evelyn stated, making me smile.

“How can I help?”

“Would you mind setting the table with Rye?” 

I nodded, crossing the kitchen to help him grab the plates. 

“So, if you don’t like baking, what do you like to do, Rye?” I asked. 

He was tall for his age, nearly my height with a slim, lanky build. His eyes lit up a little at the conversation being steered towards him and he stood up a little straighter. 

“I wrestle,” he boasted, proud. “And last spring I went to the state championships.”

“Wow,” I said and Rye smirked, pleased that I was impressed. “I won’t mess with you, then.”

He laughed, scooping up the utensils in his palms.

“I could show you some moves later, if you want me to.” The little troublemaker winked at me--_ actually winked-- _and I was so caught off guard that I stood there dumbfounded for a moment as he strutted into the living room. 

Peeta halted when he saw me standing there and raised a curious eyebrow.

“I think your little brother just winked at me.”

He snorted with an abashed shake of his head. “Sorry about that.” 

I brushed him off, easily as there was nothing to apologize for. I was just realizing with an amusing amount of clarity how vastly different Peeta and Rye were. 

It was the best Thanksgiving meal that I had ever eaten. I felt guilty admitting that, but even before dad died, our meals weren’t anything to write home about. Neither of my parents had been blessed with extraordinary cooking skills--traits they had lovingly handed off to both Prim and I as well. There was one year I remembered the turkey getting burnt so badly that we were forced to order take out.

Evelyn did not burn the turkey. It was perfectly crispy on the outside, yet tender on the inside. Seasoned just right, along with everything else on my plate.

“So Katniss,” Bran started. “Tell us more about yourself. Where are you from?”

“Pittsburgh,” I answered.

“That’s a great city.”

“You’ve been?”

“A few times, for business.”

“Don’t let him fool you--it wasn’t _ all _business,” Evelyn cut in with a clever look. “He’s a Steelers fan.”

I chuckled, taking a sip of my wine as he guiltily admitted to catching a game between meetings. 

“What brought you all the way out to Panem?”

“My major is Environmental Science,” I explained, and pretended not to see the impressed look Evelyn shot Peeta. “Panem has one of the highest after graduation employment rates and a really excellent program.”

“Good for you,” Bran praised, his voice quiet and even, soothing in nature. “It’s young people like you who care enough to take action that will end up saving the planet. It’s quite a mess these days.”

“I’ve got a question,” Rye said, stabbing a piece of turkey and dunking it into his potatoes. He had all of us turning curiously in his direction in unison and Peeta’s eyebrows dipped with hesitancy. 

“Shoot.”

“Where is Katniss sleeping?”

I thought Peeta was going to choke. He swallowed heavily, face bright red as he regarded his mischievous little brother. 

“W-what?”

“Well, I didn’t see her things in the living room. Or the loft. Is she sleeping in Finn or Gale’s room?” His voice was laced with innocence, but his bright blue eyes were amused.

“She’s sleeping in my room.” I wasn’t the only one surprised by Peeta’s answer. Bran stared down at his food and Evelyn raised her wine glass up to her lips. “I wasn’t going to make her sleep on the couch.”

“That was the gentlemanly thing to do.” 

“Very gentlemanly,” Rye snickered. “_ Katniss, share my bed. We can spoon for warmth.’” _

“Rye!” Evelyn looked genuinely shocked, which only made her son laugh. “How do you even know what spooning is?”

“I have my ways…”

“I’m sleeping in the loft,” Peeta interrupted, shooting his brother a look from across the table. I had to bite my lip to keep the nervous laughter I felt from bubbling up. “Any other questions about the sleeping arrangements?” 

“I think that just about covers it.” 

I racked my brain for conversation starters to break the tension of Rye’s ill-timed comment, but came up short. It wasn’t until Bran brought up football and the game this weekend that I felt like I could breathe again.

“Everything tastes delicious, Evelyn,” I praised quietly, once Peeta and Bran began to discuss stats. She sat up a little straighter, pleased with the praise as she finished chewing her bite.

“This is all a little more last minute than usual. I’m glad it turned out okay.”

“You know, Peeta told me once that it was you and Mr. Mellark who inspired him to go into Culinary Arts.”

“He’s giving me too much credit. It was his father who did most of the boys’ training. I didn’t have the patience for it,” she said, sheepishly. “Once they had the basics down and were old enough to know what they were doing, I had no problem showing them new techniques and tricks. Peeta especially excelled in that area. Bannock did better with the business end of things.”

The Mellarks were easy to talk to. Throughout the rest of dinner, conversation flowed naturally and without halt. I told them about Prim and Mom and listened to stories about Bialy and Penia. It wasn’t until Peeta stood up to start collecting the dishes that I realized we’d all finished eating long ago. 

I stood to help, stacking up the plates, but Evelyn took hold of my arm and gave it a light squeeze. 

“Let the boys clean up while we talk,” she smirked, and I felt obligated to follow her lead as Bran and Rye joined Peeta in the kitchen. 

We sat comfortably side by side on the couch, Evelyn grasping a glass of wine in her hands and mine fidgeting nervously in my lap. Though his family had been nothing but hospitable and kind to me, I felt on edge to have one on one time with his mother. 

“So, tell me. How long have you and Peeta been dating?” I will give Evelyn Mellark that, she cut right to the chase. 

Her bright eyes were glowing with excitement, lips turned up in a small smile. Sitting next to her, so eager to hear about me and her son felt like I was talking to some of my friends--anxious for details. It was cute, if not a bit intimidating.

Especially because Peeta and I weren’t dating.

“We’re not a couple,” I told her, slowly, eyes anywhere but on her. “Not yet, anyways.”

_ Not yet? _Shut up, Katniss.

This news didn’t seem to deter Evelyn. Her gaze never faltered.

“You know, you’re the first girl that Peeta’s introduced us to,” she told me, and for a moment her lips tightened into a line. “Don’t tell him I told you that.”

I nodded.

“I know you say you’re not dating, but I know my son and he’s sweet on you. He’s always been a little slow on the uptake, but give it some time.”

“He’s been a gentleman,” I told her, because it seemed important to her to hear that. “Since the day I met him. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who has a kinder heart.” 

She smiled, grateful for the compliment, and pressed her wine glass to her lips. 

“Peeta has always been more sensitive,” Evelyn whispered from where we sat on the couch, not wanting her voice to carry into the kitchen. “That’s why we were so surprised when he came to us and said he wanted to play football. It was so different than his other interests.”

“When was that?” I asked, curiously. I felt a little guilty talking about him out of earshot, but Evelyn was the perfect person to talk with. Her deep knowledge and lack of filter worked in harmony to provide me with a better background for who Peeta was before I met him. 

“Eighth grade,” she supplied, and then took a sip of her wine. “He had a bit of a bullying problem in middle school.”

My gut clenched at the word _ bullying _ and I hoped the array of emotions sparking inside me stayed off of my face.

“He did?”

She nodded. “Peeta has always been...bigger, and kids can be cruel. Not helped, of course, by the fact that we own a bakery.”

I swallowed the bile that was threatening to rise. 

“He would kill me for telling you this,” she said lowly, her lips set in a deep frown and eyes glassy as she spoke. “But, one day we got a call from the school nurse. Peeta had broken a chair in class and...well, he never told us what the kids said but I can only imagine.”

I felt like my heart was going to pump right out of my chest it was beating so fast and I had to actively bite my tongue to keep my breath from coming out harshly.

“That’s terrible.” Was all I could manage. 

She hummed in agreement. “It was a few months later he came to us to ask about trying out for football in the fall. I guess his gym teacher approached him about it before summer vacation. I was nervous about it, Katniss, really. Bannock wrestled and now Rye too, and I know that has its own risks, but all I could think about was him getting a concussion or seriously injured. But, he was so excited about something to do with school, for once. We couldn’t say no.”

“He’s really good.”

Evelyn smiled and nodded. “Yeah, he is. I’m so glad to see him having a better college experience. He really loves the team and has so many friends and now _ you. _ I mean, I know you’re _ just friends _ but it’s just so nice to see him with a girl.”

I returned her smile, unable to keep myself from blushing with her approval.

“Tell me, how did you two meet?”

Shit. 

I panicked. Full blown, couldn’t remember how to speak, panicked. The Mellarks had shown me kindness when I needed it the most, it was no wonder where Peeta got his morals from. I knew I wasn’t worthy of being a part of their small circle, but the idea of telling Evelyn the truth, right after what she had shared with me, cut me to the core. 

“Trivia night,” I finally choked out. “Back in September. I spilled my drink on him, accidentally.”

She laughed, covering her mouth a little when Peeta looked over from the kitchen and smiled at us. 

“Are you ready for pie?” he asked.

“I am,” I said, jumping up. There was barely any room left in my stomach, now especially that nerves had made a home there, too, but I would find a way to force it down if it meant getting off of that couch. 

“I can bring it out to you,” he insisted, but I was already halfway to the kitchen. 

“I’ll help.” 

I saddled up to Peeta as he cut even slices and plated them. Rye took the can of whipped cream and squirted a dollop into the center of each piece, except for his own which he completely covered. 

The Mellark’s didn’t stay long after dessert. After a long day of traveling and visiting, they were exhausted and ready to get back to their hotel to get some sleep. 

Peeta made arrangements to give Rye a tour of the football stadium tomorrow morning, and Bran promised to drop him off by ten o’clock in the morning. 

“I’ll call first to make sure you’re...ready,” he promised, casting a look between the two of us.

“Ten will be fine, dad, thanks,” Peeta said, scratching the back of his neck, embarrassed. 

Evelyn kissed him goodbye before pulling me in for a hug and saying once again how good it was to have met me.

“Will you be at the game, Saturday?”

“Not this one,” I frowned, shaking my head. “I have to work.”

“Well then, I hope to see you again soon.”

“Me too.” I smiled, waving goodbye as they crossed the threshold into the hallway. Peeta waited until they disappeared outside to shut the door with a sigh. 

“I’m sorry if that was overwhelming,” he apologized. “I wasn’t expecting them until the weekend.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, thank you for letting me crash your Thanksgiving.”

“You hardly crashed it,” he said with a small smile. 

“I like them. Especially your mom,” I told him as we crossed into the kitchen and started to clean up from dessert. Wordlessly, we created an assembly line with Peeta rinsing off the dishes and me setting them down into the dishwasher. 

“Don’t let her fool you. She’ll still smack your hand with a wooden spoon if you goof off in her kitchen,” Peeta teased. 

“Torturous.” 

“I told you working in the bakery was a sweatshop.”

“It seems that way,” I smiled. “I pity you, truly.”

“There’s only a little bit of pie left, do you want more?”

I groaned, stomach angry with me for even considering, but it was the best pumpkin pie I’d ever tasted. 

“I have to change first,” I admitted, patting my stomach and Peeta laughed, agreeably. 

“Me too.”

I left him to go back to the bedroom and trade my jeans for sweatpants and the tight-fitted turtleneck for a tank top. I sighed in relief, feeling like I could breathe again, and when I got back to the kitchen Peeta was sporting a more comfortable look as well.

“I’m making tea, if you want some.”

“Sure,” I said, taking a seat in one of the swiveling chairs across the island. My piece of pie was plated and waiting for me. I caught Peeta’s eye right as I scooped a dollop of whipped cream with my fingertip and brought it to my lips. 

He blinked away, busying himself with pouring the tea. 

“Sugar?” he asked, pulling a small dish closer to him on the counter.

“Just milk.”

He put two sugar cubes into one cup and poured a tablespoon of milk into the other before placing it in front of me.

I took a small sip as he moved to sit down beside me. 

“So, Madge called me earlier. She said I could move in with her and Annie.”

Peeta’s eyes widened before a smile curved his full lips.

“That’s great news. When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Oh.” His smile faltered, only for a moment. “That’s good. Really good.”

“Yeah,” I said, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “With Finnick and Gale coming home, and you’ve got a game this weekend, it’s...good timing.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly. “You’ll be happy there.”

“Plus, I’ll have my own room,” I joked and Peeta laughed.

“A huge bonus, for sure.”

“Thank you again for letting me stay here,” I breathed around the steam of my tea. “I hope you didn’t feel like you had no choice. I could’ve found someplace to go.”

“Katniss, you’ve thanked me one hundred times now. You don’t have to. I was happy you stayed. My family too.”

“They were great.” Too great. The pit of guilt that hit me each time I recalled the conversation I had with his mother earlier grew more intense. I knew his family was happy to have met me, especially Evelyn, but I couldn’t help but wonder how their impression might be tainted if they knew the truth about what I’d done.

Peeta seemed to pick up on my hesitation and his thick eyebrows furrowed in silent question.

“What’s wrong? Are you upset you couldn’t be with your family?” he guessed. 

“No, it’s not that.” I’d given up the idea of going home for as short of a visit as Thanksgiving would need to be long before this year. “I was just feeling...ashamed. Your family was so nice to me and if they knew how horrible I’d been--”

“Hey,” Peeta cut me off, and his hand reached out for mine. A spark ignited at the touch and for a moment my eyes locked between our hands before finally lifting up to his face. He studied me intensely, lips pressed into a tight line that dared contradiction.

“Katniss, that’s in the past.” He assured me. “There is no point in dwelling on it.”

“But if they knew…”

“I don’t see a good reason to bring any of that up to them.”

I stared at our hands, still touching in between our bodies. 

“You have such big hands,” I muttered, holding mine up against his in a detailed study. His palm practically dwarfed mine. 

As if on reflex, he pulled away and placed them down on his lap. I frowned, not having meant it as a bad thing.

“They’re ugly,” he snorted while twining them together. “Scarred and calloused.”

On an impulse, I grabbed one and brought it into my hands again. I traced my fingers over their shape, noting the imperfections he spoke of. His thumb was rough, as was the side of his palm closest to it and his forefinger. He had a burn mark on the back of his knuckles and the pad of his middle finger was shiny with another. Despite myself, I couldn’t help imagining what they would feel like across my smooth skin. What sort of reaction those calloused edges would cause when they raked against more sensitive parts of me.

“You say scarred, I say...hard working.” I spoke to his hand in a gentle voice, unable to stop touching it despite the weirdness of the whole thing. 

It felt intimate, being in his kitchen with just the low lighting for company to illuminate our faces. The house was silent, even the roads outside, so that if just a pin had dropped it could be heard. Peeta’s breathing wasn’t smooth and even. I could feel him watching me explore despite our silence. When I wrapped my fingers around his and interlocked our hands, an electric shock wave coursed through my veins...and I didn’t want to let go.

I peered up at him from below my eyelashes and noticed intensity in his gaze. The same intensity that I’d seen there once before, the night at the party. Just before we kissed…

He was going to kiss me.

My eyes felt heavy with the knowledge and despite my increasing heart rate, I felt calm. I leaned forward a little and his hand gripped mine tighter for a brief moment. Just as my eyes started to lull closed, he pulled away.

I jerked back, like cold water had been splashed on me when the kitchen chair screeched against the floor.

“We should try to get some sleep,” he suggested, voice hoarse. He stood up and put his cup into the sink, rinsed it out and then stuck it inside the dishwasher. I nodded absently, still dazed and unsure of what had just happened. 

“O-okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Katniss.”

“Peeta…” I waited until he was midway up the stairs to call out for him. He turned around, cheeks flushed and curls haphazard. I swallowed heavily.

“Thank you, again. For everything.”

His smile burned a hole through my heart.

“You’re welcome. Get some rest.”

I could still feel my heartbeat from inside my palm, long after I fell down into his bed. 

Sleep was difficult to find with all my thoughts circulating around him. I wondered if he had actually fallen asleep, or if he was laying upstairs in the loft, staring at the ceiling and thinking of the almost kiss too. 

When my phone buzzed and lit up the room with a new text notification, I rolled over onto my side and checked who it was from. Prim. Wondering how Thanksgiving turned out with Peeta’s family.

Between all the excitement of the day, I’d barely found time to message and update her on everything. I started to reply back, but got midway through the first sentence before hitting the button to FaceTime her instead. 

Knowing this conversation had the potential to get loud, and Peeta had hinted that the walls were not extremely thick, I plugged in my headphones and took the phone with me into his bathroom.

“Hey!” Prim answered on the third ring. She was out, bundled up in a hat and scarf with the dark sky as her background as she walked the street with some of her friends.

“Hey,” I replied back, eyebrows furrowed. “Where are you?”

“Black Friday shopping--don’t judge,” she pointed a finger at me through the camera. My little sister looked so grown up, with her blonde hair curled beneath the hat and eyeshadow on her lids.

“Getting anything good?”

“We’ll see,” she shrugged noncommittally before moving closer to the camera, as if it would help her see me better. “Where are _ you?” _

“Bathroom. Thin walls, I didn’t want to be...overheard.”

“That means you’ve got dirt,” Prim grinned. “Spill. How was Thanksgiving with your new family?”

I scowled at her calling them that, and rolled my eyes before diving into the tamest version of what had happened over the past few days--testing the waters with my sister. 

It was fairly easy to get away with the whole _ we’re just friends _ speech when others inquired of Peeta and I, but less easy with my little sister who would not take the easy answer as a satisfying one.

“I don’t know,” I reluctantly admitted, because I hadn’t ever been more confused in my life about a boy or a situation. Then again, I’d also never been in a situation quite as ridiculous as mine and Peeta’s before, either. 

It was obvious that he was attracted to me and enjoyed my company. The chemistry that we shared was off the charts and I found myself constantly wanting to be around him and wishing to see him when we were apart. 

Pathetic, but painfully truthful.

There was hesitancy on his end still, of course. But it felt like we were breaking through some of the barriers. I just didn’t know how much longer I could wait before jumping him like an absolute lunatic.

Prim listened patiently while I talked through my conflict, nodding when appropriate and inserting the occasional comment. 

“Being alone with him these past few days has been so easy. It just feels...natural,” I mumbled, hiding my face in my hands to keep from looking at my sister. I gave my head a shake and groaned. “I hate myself for ruining this.”

“Calm down, drama queen. You definitely fucked up, but from what I’ve gathered of this conversation, it’s pretty obvious you two want to jump each other's bones.”

I bit the corner of my lip, debating whether or not I should mention the almost kiss. She sensed my hesitation, that I was keeping something from her, and narrowed her eyes. 

“What?”

I bit my lip.

“Katniss Everdeen, you better tell me…”

“We almost kissed.” 

Her eyes widened with intrigue, but not shock, and she leaned in closer to the camera as she casually perused the store, like she was there on a Tuesday afternoon and not the busiest shopping night of the year. 

“But...you didn’t kiss?”

I shook my head.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “He got spooked, or something. Said we should go to bed.”

“When you say _ almost kissed _, how close are we talking?” 

“Our faces were this far apart…” I pinched the phone between my legs and held my fingers just an inch or two widths apart. 

Intrigue turned to wonderment as she squealed girlishly on the other end of the phone. Headphones had definitely been the right call.

“Wow.”

“I know,” I groaned. “I wanted him to so badly.”

“Are you sure he isn’t...you know...beating one off upstairs?”

_ “Prim!” _

She shrugged unapologetically, and I couldn’t help but release a surprised chuckle as I shook my head at my not-so-baby sister.

“You could always go up and offer to _ relieve some tension…” _

“Yes, because if a kiss freaked him out, offering to give him a sexual favors would definitely go over well.”

“I’m just saying that you might need to be the one who makes the first move, you know? Regardless of what that move is.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Why not? You’re the one who tricked him. Of course he’s going to be a little gun shy and unsure about his perception of where the relationship is going.”

I wanted to tell her that I had made it perfectly clear in _ my _ perception. Tell her about the morning we’d woken up a mess of tangled limbs, able to feel each other all over. But, there was such a thing as oversharing and though Prim seemed to have no trouble crossing that line, I had my reservations.

“Just kiss him. He’s obviously attracted to you, so what’s the worst that can happen?”

“He cou--”

“This is not the 1900s, Katniss. Make a damn move.”

“Maybe you have a point,” I admitted, gnawing on my bottom lip. Prim did a little happy dance in the middle of the Target aisle at my admission. 

_ “Maybe,” _I reiterated. 

“Do it tomorrow.”

_ No. _

“I’ll think about it.”

“And then you can get married and have bread babies! What’s his last name again?”

“Mellark.”

“Katniss Mellark. Has a nice ring, don’t you think?”

She didn’t need to know that I’d practiced the name in my head a stupid amount of times already.

“It’s alright.” 

* * *

Friday morning was an awkward dance of skirting around a conversation about _ the-almost-kiss _ as we got ready to go to Capitol Stadium. 

“Are you hungry?” Peeta asked, but his eyes wouldn’t quite meet mine. I paused, waiting until they did, and watched a blush creep up his cheeks as he held my gaze.

Hell yes I was hungry, but not for anything I could ask of him in that moment.

“I’ll just have a yogurt,” I answered instead. 

Peeta toasted some of the leftover bread from last night and served me a piece with cinnamon butter alongside my yogurt and when I devoured the piece in record timing he laughed, breaking the tension between us.

The weather held up nicely for the holiday weekend. The sun was shining and although there was still snow on the ground, nothing new appeared. It was warm enough that we could walk to the stadium without struggle, so after breakfast we all began the journey there.

It was hard to tell whether or not Rye was excited about going. I remembered all too well being thirteen, feeling too cool for almost everything and afraid to show too much emotion. He had his hands tucked into an oversized sweatshirt which boasted his wrestling team back home, and headphones over his ears as we walked. But once we arrived at the stadium, the glint in his eyes could not be missed.

It was fun to watch Peeta in his element. The way he walked through the hidden hallways and corridors behind the stadium with ease and familiarity, pointing things out to his brother as we went. I watched Rye’s undeniable expression of excitement increase as we continued the tour, and I had to admit that I was just as impressed. 

It was far superior to some High School locker room. With personal cafeterias and lounges, game rooms and massage chairs, private showers and even a small movie theater room, which Peeta said was used to review plays and game tapes. 

“Mellark.”

A strong voice, filled with superiority stopped us in our tracks and caused me to spin around with surprise. An older man, short and balding with stern features and a red _ Panem _ sweatshirt on, made his way down the hallway closer to us. When his expression broke out into a smile, I felt my shoulders relax and the anxiety of being in trouble disappeared. 

“Hey Coach,” Peeta greeted, easily.

“It’s the holidays, son. What are you doing here?”

“My family is in town. I was showing my brother around the stadium. Rye, say hello,” Peeta encouraged, placing an arm around his shoulder.

“Hey,” Rye replied, waving in the most shy way I’d seen him act since the Mellark’s arrival.

“You play football?” Coach asked and Rye shook his head.

“I wrestle.”

“You wrestle? What the hell are you doing taking him to the football field if he wrestles, Mellark? Just trying to show off?”

Peeta laughed, playing along with his Coach’s jest which made Rye crack a smile as well.

“Next time you’re in town, let me know, I’ll get you over to the wrestling quarters and let you scope it out. Never too young to start thinking about colleges. You might decide to follow in your brother’s footsteps and come to the University of Panem.”

Rye positively beamed, flashing all of his teeth as he smiled and shook the Coach’s hand.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Enjoy your holidays. Mellark, see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yes sir.”

Before heading back to grab lunch with Peeta’s parents, we went out onto the football field as the last part of the tour. Staring up in the stands from that point of view gave me new perspective. Despite it being entirely abandoned besides the three of us, I could picture the stands crowded with screaming people, the loud blare of music, the echo of commands in my ear as the game play started. I felt my heart rate pick up as my mind imagined it.

“You’re brave,” I told him, quietly as Rye ran around the field. “I don’t think I could do this every week.”

“Sure you could,” he said with confidence, even as he stuffed his hands back down into his pants pockets. 

“Too much pressure,” I assured him, which made him smile. 

“It’s just a game. People forget that, sometimes. Most important thing is to have fun, because you play your best when you are. It’s once you get in your own head that the trouble begins. Easier said than done, of course.”

I couldn’t agree more.

+++

It was only a few hours after lunch when I got a message from Madge saying she would be home soon. Peeta took me back to the apartment to collect up all of my things and helped me load them back into his truck. When we both reached to close the door, our hands brushed and I felt the pulse of his touch even as we drove off. 

“I know you said I don’t need to say it anymore, but thank you. For everything.” We were sitting on the quiet street Madge and Annie, and now my, new apartment sat on the corner of. Inside, the lights were on, blinds pulled open in a welcoming gesture despite the darkness of night. 

“You’re welcome,” Peeta replied, voice a smooth baritone. “It was fun.”

“Yeah. It was.”

Too much fun. It had been easy to slip into the fantasy of living in that beautiful apartment with Peeta, cooking dinner together and drinking tea late in the evening. 

He was just so easy to be around. His energy was contagious. I felt so alive in his presence and there was an ache of loneliness that settled in the pit of my stomach knowing that I wouldn’t wake up to him there in the morning tomorrow.

“Let me help you get your stuff,” he said, unbuckling and opening the door. I followed him outside, curving around the long bed of his truck to stand by his side. He handed me my backpack and I tossed it over my shoulder. Both his hands held duffels and there were still two more bags inside of his back seat we would need to come back for.

“Tell your parents that it was nice meeting them.”

“I will,” Peeta smiled. “Mom will be glad. She...she liked you, too.”

There was nothing more to say, then. It was time for me to lead the way to the apartment, but I couldn’t seem to move my feet.

To move would be admitting that the week was over and I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

Peeta didn’t make a move to leave our spot staring at each other, either. He remained rooted to the ground, calmly leaning back against the passenger door of his truck, regarding me with deep blue eyes that peeked out from beneath light blonde lashes. 

“What’s your favorite color?” I asked on impulse. I saw his eyebrows dip with confusion and the way his lips parted in question before closing.

“I told you mine but I never asked yours,” I explained in a whisper. It felt wrong to talk in any voice louder than that. 

“Orange,” he answered, softly. “Like the color of sunset.”

I closed my eyes, picturing it, and smiled. 

That suited him well. Soft, gentle, _ stunning. _All supple strokes and with no hard edges. 

“That sounds right,” I agreed, making him laugh breathlessly.

“Does it?” he inquired, amused and we were standing so close to each other that our clouded breath mingled. 

I swallowed heavily, only able to manage a nod.

My conversation with Prim last night came to mind. Her voice a high-pitched chant in my head: _ kiss him, kiss him, kiss him _ but I felt nauseous at the thought, sick with worry that I would do something to ruin the foundation we had somehow managed to rebuild yet again.

My throat felt coated with cotton and my hands shook at their sides with nerves. Still, we both remained side by side, like a strange game of chicken as we waited for the other to make the first move.

“I’m sorry about last night,” I started, “I didn’t mean to. I hope that I didn’t--”

“Katniss?” My name was a question on his lips, shaky and ineloquent as his adams apple bobbed. 

His massive hands wrapped around my face, cradling my cheeks with his fingers skimming the sensitive skin behind my ears. I gasped when his lips connected with mine, both our bodies stiff and tense.

My eyes were wide open, studying his closed ones and the way his eyebrows were pinched in concentration. Then, the tension started rolling off our bodies in waves. I felt my muscles slacken in his embrace, blinked heavily as my eyes started to close involuntarily. When my arms tentatively worked themselves around his middle, he deepened the kiss and I gratefully accepted.

I heard him moan--_ or maybe it was me _\--as my tongue licked his bottom lip, asking permission for entry. On a sigh, he let me in and then my back was pressed against the wall with his body pinning me to it.

It was the best kiss I’d ever been given. Somehow managing to be both slow and tentative, ready to pull back at the first sign that I didn’t want it...but also controlled and experienced. He knew how to kiss me well and I felt like putty in his hands because of it.

When we broke apart, his forehead rested against mine and I could feel his panting breaths fan across my face. 

“I wanted to kiss you last night,” he admitted. “But I knew it wasn’t fair. I needed to think.”

“What did you think about?” My lips were pressed against his as I asked.

“You, and how badly I wanted this to be real.”

“It’s real,” I whispered and his hands found purchase on my hips before we finally pulled away again.

“It’s real,” he repeated, swollen lips tugging up into a smile that I matched with ease. 

“So, where does this leave us then?”

I was willing to take what I could get with him at this point, but I wasn’t too keen on the idea of being makeout buddies without anything else. 

I wanted Peeta for myself. _ Mine. _ And I wanted everyone to know it.

“I’m not sure,” Peeta admitted with honesty. Before I could entirely deflate, he added, “I have to admit to you that this is all new to me. Being in a relationship. But...I want that. If it’s what you want.”

“I want it,” I said, almost instantly. Peeta’s smile returned. “I really want it.”

“Okay.” 

I couldn’t hide my joy. 

We kissed once more, sweet and soft with the promise of more in the future and I felt like a puddle of goo as I headed back towards the apartment door.

“I’ll talk with you tomorrow?” he asked, hopeful, and I nodded, brain entirely useless.

“Okay...goodnight, Katniss.”

“Goodnight, Peeta.”

And it really was.

The _ sweetest _ of nights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your enthusiasm and kind words have given me so much happiness and life. Thanks guys, I truly hope you enjoyed this chapter! Happy Sunday!


	13. December 11-14

* * *

_ The less we say about it, the better..._

_make it up as we go along._

-Walk the Moon (Talking Heads cover)

* * *

Peeta and I mutually decided that it was for the best to keep our new relationship on the down-low until we knew for sure where things were headed. We were well aware that on the outside looking in, we walked a fine line of insanity. Neither of us cared much about the opinions of others, but we still weren’t sure how our friends would respond to the news and needed time to figure everything out for ourselves without the pressure of a public label. 

Walking up to Madge and Annie’s apartment that night, I’d prepared myself to discuss the kiss. With the windows open, it felt like there was no possible way they hadn’t seen it. Honestly, it felt like there was no way _ everyone _ hadn’t seen it. Like, how could one of the most explosive and passionate moments of my life be another average day for everyone else? 

Going off experience from the sorority house, there was no such thing as secrets, and everyone wanted all of the details. So, it surprised me when the girls greeted me at the threshold of the apartment and welcomed me inside without a single word about Peeta. 

It was kind of exhilarating to have a secret that no one else knew about. Two weeks had passed since the kiss and I was fairly confident that despite lingering suspicions, none of our friends knew about the budding relationship.

Delly organized a group to go out for dinner and a movie Wednesday night, inadvertently devising the perfect cover up for Peeta and I to hang out without having to sneak around under the veil of darkness. 

The group was largely composed of couples: Delly and Thresh, Annie and Finnick, Gale and Madge...unknowingly, Peeta and I. But Clove, Maysilee and a couple other people from the team were also invited along, making Peeta and I blend in well.

Paranoia felt like living beneath a microscope. Even though neither of us were acting any differently, it felt like everyone was watching and dissecting our every move. 

During dinner, Peeta had purposely sat across the table from me. Still, anytime our eyes met, I felt my cheeks sting and stomach flop with nerves and excitement. 

It was ridiculous. _ Ridiculously fun. _

“How are you liking apartment living?” Delly asked, pulling me back into reality with a nudge of my arm. Peeta glanced away, bringing a cup of water to his lips and the cloud that seemed to always fog my brain these days evaporated.

“It’s nice,” I admitted. “Weird not sharing a bathroom with twenty other girls, though.” 

Delly laughed. “Don’t rub it in.”

“Have you thought about where you might go after graduation?” I asked, because although we were barely into December, the fall semester was coming to a rapid close, and then Delly would be in her final semester here at Panem. The thought was both terrifying and exciting. She was about to be moving on and starting the next phase in her life, merging into true adulthood.

“I’m hoping to move back closer to home. I applied to a few different grad programs, but my top pick is Washington State so I can start looking for jobs out there while I earn my masters.”

“When will you hear from them?”

“Soon.” She inhaled a nervous breath, crossing her manicured fingers. “But, I have backups, if not. It won’t be the end of the world.”

“I love your optimism.”

Delly shrugged her shoulders, easily. “You’ve got to learn to roll with the punches.”

“What about Thresh?” I whispered, genuinely curious. Their relationship was only a few months old. They’d been on again and off again practically since I knew her, but I had no idea how serious they were this time around. If it was just senior year fun or if they had a plan post-graduation.

Delly’s smile tightened.

“He gets drafted for the _Seattle Seahawks?”_ she teased, her tone lilting at the end of her sentence as she tipped her head to the side. We shared a laugh as she twirled a finger around one of her delicate curls. “Honestly, though...we haven’t really talked about it much. Both of our degrees are ones that can be useful anywhere. Of course I’d love to find a school to teach at closer to my family and where I grew up, but I know Thresh misses Texas too.”

“If you get accepted to Washington State and Thresh goes back to Texas, will you keep things long distance?”

“I hope so.” She winced and then laughed lightly. “Jeez, Katniss, you sure made me realize I’ve got a lot to think about.”

I laughed, rubbing her arm apologetically.

“Graduating is scary,” she whispered. “Don’t fall for it.”

“You’ll do great. Wherever you land.”

“Thanks. I love you.”

“Love you more.”

After dinner was finished, we headed over to the movie theater. As my car group chattered and listened to music, I busied myself with trying to think up a casual way to sit next to Peeta without drawing too much attention. As it was, we had barely talked during dinner. I didn’t want to spend the entirety of our technical _ ‘first date’ _completely apart. 

**Me (6:37pm): **Are you almost to the theater?

_ Peeta (6:38pm): _We just got here.

**Me (6:40pm): **Sit next to me?

_ Peeta (6:40pm): _Lol, you don’t have to convince me.

_ Peeta (6:41pm): _I’ll meet you by concession? Already got your ticket.

**Me (6:42pm): **Okay. Thanks.

True to his word, Peeta busied himself looking over the selection at the concession stand until we arrived. He slipped me my ticket slyly and we ordered some snacks before casually heading into the theater side by side. 

Our row and part of the one in front of us was entirely made up of our friends. I slid all the way down, pinned between the wall and one other seat, and Peeta sat down next to me. _ Perfect. _

“Popcorn?” he asked, tipping the bucket in my direction.

“You can just leave that right between the two of us,” I teased, making him laugh.

Just the feeling of his warmth and the way his subtle scent permeated the air between us made me giddy with happiness. His body was a thick wall that made me feel separated from the rest of our group just on the other side of him. 

The lights went down and I grabbed another small handful of popcorn. Two handfuls later and I was itching to be closer to him. 

The movie wasn’t exactly my speed; too much violence and gore, but I was more than aware of how to preoccupy myself…

I slid my hand across the armrest separating Peeta and I, to where his large hand rested limply. That electric spark I felt so often with him shot through me as my pinkie finger brushed his. I felt his hand twitch, saw from the corner of my eye as he sat up a little straighter and could sense the heat of his gaze on our hands.

I bit the corner of my lip to keep from smiling, but refused to look up in his direction. A moment later, when he’d settled back into a relaxed position, I moved again to hook our pinkies together. Neither of us moved, too afraid that the slightest bit would be like smoldering the flames.

The amount of effort it took just to breathe normally was embarrassing, and I wondered if Peeta was at all affected the way I was. His hand moved and for a moment I thought he might pull away, until he went to press our hands fully together.

Palm to palm.

Fingers interlocked.

His thumb brushed the back of my hand and I felt the touch all the way through my body. An intense heat. _ A need. _ Just from fucking holding his hand.

I remembered how at the party I’d reached out to hold his hand and felt that same buzz. Thinking back on those instinctive feelings then and the ones I couldn’t deny even if I wanted to now, it felt like this would’ve happened anyway. There was something calming in that realization.

We held hands for the rest of the movie. Even when the heat of our combined skin grew uncomfortable. Even when we had to awkwardly reach for popcorn with our opposite hands. Until the credits rolled and the theater lights went up, we didn’t let go. 

“That wasn’t as good as the first one,” Madge commented, tossing her trash into the garbage on the way out of the theater.

“I don’t know,” I replied with a simple shrug. “I thought it was pretty good. Peeta, what did you think?”

I watched his ears turn pink from where he walked in front of me, and when he turned to look over his shoulder, his eyes didn’t quite meet mine. 

“Y-yeah. It was good.”

I wondered what else I could do to make him flush so furiously. 

Seriously, it was like I was drunk. Entirely intoxicated by his mere existence. Peeta was not my first boyfriend. I’d experienced the _ new relationship glee _. Been in a position before where a boy took over every part of my brain until I felt like I was actually going crazy.

But this was different. 

This didn’t feel fleeting. I wasn’t left waiting, expecting for it to end. 

I’d be perfectly content if it never did.

I kept my pace behind him, in step with Annie and Madge and enjoyed the view of his butt with each step.

_ Stupidly. Drunkenly. Intoxicated. _

At the door of the theater, everyone began saying their goodbyes. 

I’d carpooled with Thresh and Delly, but it was so late that at this point I didn’t expect for them to take me home, too. They left, along with Clove and Maysilee, shortly after Delly made her rounds of hugging everyone goodbye. The rest of our small group lingered.

Annie was spending the night with Finnick and wouldn’t be back to the apartment and Madge had driven with Gale who was intent on getting ice cream. 

“Can Peeta give you a ride home?” Madge suggested and it felt like everyone could see straight through us in that moment. 

I tried to play it cool, but had no idea how my face looked when I turned up to Peeta in silent question. He ran a hand over his head before nodding quickly and clearing his throat.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Cool. I’ll be home in a little while, Kat,” Madge promised, giving my hand a quick squeeze while the other was locked in Gale’s as he dragged her towards the car. 

The group dwindled down until it was just Peeta and I, walking through the snow covered parking lot towards his massive truck.

We sat inside, waiting for it to warm up and melt the snow that had accumulated on the windshield. Quietly, we watched as the cars in the parking lot slowly disappeared. 

“That was fun,” I said, twisting in my seat to face him. 

“Yeah, it was. You enjoyed the movie?”

“I wasn’t really paying too much attention to the movie,” I admitted, and Peeta’s mouth turned up into a smile.

“Me neither.”

“My mind may have drifted a few times.”

He swallowed heavily. “Did it?” 

I nodded with a low hum of agreement and Peeta’s eyes darted to my hand, which crawled to the center console between us. He looked lost, a deer in the headlights as he took several glances between me and my hand, unsure of what move to make next.

It was okay. I didn’t mind taking the lead for now. Soon, he wouldn’t need me to, and I might miss his hesitancy. 

“All I wanted to do was kiss you.”

“Me too,” he breathed.

“So kiss me.”

He complied. His large body dipped down to meet mine and his hands cupped the back of my neck, giving it support as we connected. 

I moaned at the contact, reveling in what I had been dying for all night.

Finally.

Now that I’d had a taste of Peeta’s lips without hesitancy or fear, I was an addict. My body lit up as soon as his came into contact with mine.

The car had sufficiently warmed up, but neither of us made move to part until we were so close that I was practically on top of the center console and the stick shift pressed uncomfortably into my hip.

“Do you have to get home?” I asked against his lips. All he could manage was a short shake of his head, panting too heavily to reply properly. I smiled against his skin and when I scratched the back of his neck, right where his hair started to turn into fine baby strands, he shuddered.

_ Oooh. _ I would need to remember that.

“Backseat?” I whispered, and the only reason we pulled apart was so we could climb out of the truck to get closer to one another in the back.

It wasn’t _ much _more space, especially given his size, but it was enough. Peeta’s head brushed the top of the roof as he adjusted and his knees bumped against the backside of his seat up front. 

I climbed in next to him, sitting with my back to the front of the car. Legs towards the passenger door and upper body leaning over Peeta’s. His hand snaked around my back, resting cautiously in the center of it, a few inches below my bra strap. He rubbed my back in small circles, eyeing me as if he were testing what was okay or not. He would soon learn that when it came to him touching me there were few things off limits.

I matched his pace, not wanting to blitz through the moment or freak him out with my eagerness. My hand went back to rest on his shoulder, the other laying flat on his upper chest. I rubbed it gently as we kissed, feeling the length of his chest, down to his stomach.

I felt him contract beneath my touch, inhaling before his hand came to rest over mine. His fingers curled against my palm gently, thumb tracing the back of my hand before he moved it up to rest back on his shoulder. 

“You feel incredible,” I told him between kisses, wishing that I were brave enough to move and sit in his lap. I could feel the heat coursing through my body with just the simple press of his mouth to mine, and his hands on my back. 

“You do too.”

We learned each other in the darkness, our quiet noises filling the silence and breath fogging the windows on either side of us. I hummed into his mouth, greedy for more when his hand glided up to rest in my hair; thick fingers burying themselves into it. My braid was a mess, with half of my hair free from it, but I couldn’t care less as I copied his motions and smoothed his floppy curls back with my palms.

Peeta groaned involuntarily when I bit his lip and then sucked on it soothingly. I watched his head lull to the side before falling against the headrest as I trailed my teasing ministrations down to his neck. 

His swollen lips parted, hands tightened against my body. His skin was burning in every place my lips landed and I felt his erratic heartbeat pumping through his veins against my tongue. 

My hand slid up and down the length of his strong arm, back to rest on his shoulder and then down, down, down his chest to tease the hem of his shirt. 

Peeta’s hand gripped mine, his hold shaking against my skin as he looked up at me with hazy eyes in the darkness.

“We should stop,” he gasped.

“We should?”

His laughter was breathless as he nodded reluctantly.

“Before it’s too late.”

He was right. We were quickly approaching the point of no return and our first time was not going to be in the back of his truck in the parking lot of the movie theater. 

“Yeah, okay.” 

“We don’t want Madge to beat you home, either.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. That would require great explanation and after our latest kiss, I wasn’t sure that either of us had the brain capacity for it. 

Peeta and I climbed back into the two front seats and carried on a quiet conversation back to my new apartment.

It was the last I would see of him before he headed out to Florida for an away game this weekend. The team wouldn’t get home until late Sunday evening and I had a shift at Sae’s anyways, so we probably wouldn’t get a chance to see one another again until Monday.

“Good luck this weekend,” I said in way of parting as we lingered in the street across from the apartment.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll need it. Starting to lose steam.”

It was understandable. The season was winding down and it had been non-stop for the Nightlocks since August, with games almost every weekend and practices several times a week. From what I gathered, there would only be a slight reprieve during the spring semester before the madness started all over again.

But, that was the sacrifice that came with something you loved. Most of the time it didn’t feel like a chore or work, but it was learning to push through the times where it did.

“Make sure you get enough rest,” I said, unable to keep my hands from running through his hair one last time. 

He reveled in the touch, leaning into my palm with closed eyes before letting out a small, disbelieving breath of laughter.

“What?” I asked, pulling away self consciously.

“Nothing.” He promised, scratching the back of his neck, nervously. “I’m just still not used to this. Having someone care about me. These sweet touches…”

I bit my lip to keep from smiling and Peeta grew more anxious under my stare.

“Stupid, I know.”

“It’s not stupid,” I said, voice firm. “It’s...cute.”

Judging by his expression, that wasn’t the right word.

“I love that I’m the one who gets to give you those experiences,” I tried to amend, stroking his arm through the fabric of his shirt. “It’s crazy to me that nobody has properly appreciated you but I want to.”

He looked stunned by my admission, eyes widening before lulling closed as I leaned in for one last lingering kiss.

“Fuck, I want you, too.”

I smiled against his skin, unbuckling and pulling his door open.

“You have me, Peeta Mellark.”

He rolled down his window as I made my way to the other side of his truck.

“Let me know you arrived safely.”

“I will,” he promised, expression still dazed with disbelief as he watched me disappear into the apartment building. 

* * *

It was hard to believe that Christmas was just a few short weeks away. 

Somehow, the semester had managed to pass both painfully slow and in a flash. September felt like it had occurred years ago yet at the same time it was hard to believe that there was only a week and a half left until break. 

Though Madge would be going home, Annie and her both thought it would be a good idea to decorate the apartment a little, since it was all of our first holidays there. Her mom had even sent her a care package labeled _ Hanukkah _with a couple of staple items. 

“Put up a tree at your own risk,” she warned as she pulled out a Menorah packaged tightly in bubble wrap from the box. “Peter attacks anything that even remotely resembles a plant. Add dangling balls and forget it.” 

Peter, Madge’s feisty cat, trilled at the mention of his name and rubbed up against the wall with his orange back arched. 

“Good thing we’re broke college students and can probably only afford tinsel,” Annie teased from where she lounged on the couch.

We had plans to go out and pick a few things up since we were all blessed with a night off free from commitment--something that hadn’t happened once since I’d moved in. It helped that Finnick, Gale and Peeta were all busy with last minute practices before they headed to Florida tomorrow.

As Madge set up the items her mom sent from home, I went to grab my jacket from inside my bedroom. 

She passed by, halting in the doorway and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she looked around.

“Not to be nosey, but I can’t help noticing your room is a little bare.”

She wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t bothered bringing many personal belongings from home when I first came to Panem, because I’d honestly never considered having the space for them. Now that I had my own room, the walls looked too white in contrast with my plain green comforter. Besides the couple of photos on my dresser, there was nothing about it that made it distinctly mine.

“Haven’t gotten around to decorating yet.”

“I made you something, hope that’s okay,” she said, biting the inside of her cheek. It was only then that I noticed her hands behind her back, hiding something.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” she shrugged, coming to sit down on the bed next to me. She placed it down between us, waiting in silence.

At first, I wasn’t sure what it was, but as I unraveled it I recognized it to be wall hanging comprised of flowers and leaves woven together and dangling down so that it looked like they were eternally falling.

It was beautiful.

“Do you hate it?” 

“What? No, this is beautiful,” I said, unable to stop staring at it before finally pulling her into my arms. “Thank you, Madge.”

“I’m glad. I made something similar for Annie with seashells and thought maybe you’d want one, too.” 

“I love it.” I stood up and opened the top drawer of my nightstand, pulling a couple of tacks out from my tackle box. I kneeled on my bed, positioning it over the headboard. 

“Is it straight?”

Madge went to the other end of the room, near the door and squinted a little before her face broke out into a smile.

“Yep.” 

“I’m going to hang it right now.”

“That’s a good spot for it. Peter won’t be able to reach it,” she joked, making me laugh.

After it was firmly in place, I stood back to admire it and wrapped my arms around Madge.

“Thank you. It’s great.” 

“You’re easy to please,” she snorted, pinching my side. “I’m mad I didn’t get your name for the gift exchange.”

I laughed, grabbing my coat and following her and Annie out the door to go shop. 

* * *

I kept myself entertained throughout the day Friday by living vicariously through Peeta. 

Their plane had landed before my first class had even ended, and he sent me pictures of palm trees and bright sunny skies. The last was a poorly taken selfie, with half of his face cut off, but him, Gale and Finnick all smiled brightly which made me laugh. 

I glanced out one of the long windows that ran the length of the hallway to a view of gray clouds and snow and decided to snap a picture.

**Me (11:10am): **I mean yeah sun and beaches are great and all...but see what you’re missing out on back in Panem? 

_ Peeta (11:11am): _Thanks for rubbing it in, Katniss. 

**Me (11:12am): **Sorry, lol. I just had to share. I knew you’d be so jealous.

_ Peeta (11:12am): _Terribly.

_ Peeta (11:13am): _How was class?

**Me (11:14am): **Boring. Let’s not pretend that my life is the more exciting one right now.

I walked into the library and saw our table, sitting empty and lonely in his absence. 

I didn’t care that it had only been two days since I saw him, or that it made me a ridiculous, stereotypical girl, I freaking missed him. 

As I settled in for a far-less-entertaining than normal study break, I pulled my phone back out and typed another quick message to Peeta. 

**Me (11:15am): **What are your plans for the day?

_ Peeta (11:18am): _Nothing too ‘exciting’ lol. We have press conferences that we’re headed to now. Then practice.

Jeez, he was right. I guess the change in scenery was enough to dub it _ interesting, _but nothing about Peeta’s afternoon seemed out of the ordinary for him. 

Our texts fizzled out as we both got busier, and then a long stretch of time passed before I heard from him again. 

I finished up my classes for the day and then met up with Johanna, Beetee and Wiress to work on finishing touches for our final project. After I made a quick stop by _ Second Rebellion _ on the way home for avocado toast. Caught Madge at the tail-end of her _ Netflix _ binge before she had to change and rush off to the hospital for the night clinic. Kept watching for another hour after she left before it was time for me to get ready to go into work, too. 

Sae’s was a mad house, but nothing that I hadn’t come to expect or be prepared for over the years. Highlights from the girls volleyball match played and replayed out on the screens before footage from the press conference Peeta had mentioned earlier that it was broadcast from Tampa. The only weird thing about the night was that Marvel wasn’t working. As much of a pain as he could be, he knew how to keep shifts interesting so that they passed by. I wondered if the frat house was doing anything special tonight, and that was why he was off.

It was nearly eleven o’clock when I arrived back at the apartment, but it was still quiet with the majority of the lights dimmed from earlier. Small glimpses of life lead me to believe that Annie was home and had already retreated to bed. Madge wasn’t joking about how intense her schedule could be.

I compulsively checked my phone again for a new message from Peeta, but there was nothing. He’d told me that it would be a busy day and I didn’t want to interrupt that or make him feel like he had to respond to messages when he was in the middle of commitments. I knew that that was the type of distraction he didn’t need.

But I couldn’t help wondering what he was up to. Delly was down in Florida too with the dance team, and had been going crazy posting pictures and videos on her Instagram from a party a bunch of people were apparently at. Through the darkened atmosphere and insane lights flashing around in the background, it was hard to tell who exactly was there. 

And, it wasn’t like I had a right to care about him going out with his friends if he chose to. I still remember him telling me back in the fall that his coach sometimes even mandated that they all go out together for _ team bonding _. 

Refusing to do something stupid, like double text him or find out from Delly whether or not he was at the party, I got into the shower and tried to think of anything else.

It wasn’t until afterwards, when I was toweling off and getting ready for bed that my phone vibrated against the sink counter with a new message from Peeta. 

With a stupid amount of eagerness, I dried my hands and unlocked my phone. 

_ Peeta (10:56pm): _Sorry for the late reply, I’m just getting back to the hotel now.

** Me (11:03pm): **Out partying?

I’d meant it to be a joke, but reading it back it sounded too accusatory to be made light of. I added an ‘lol’ but somehow that made it worse. 

_ Peeta (11:03pm): _You know me…I’m a party animal, lol. 

I smiled, moving from the bathroom into my bedroom and reveling in the solitude I was provided now. My bedroom. _ Mine and mine alone. _

** Me (11:05pm):** Lol. Busted. They have you practicing this late?

I changed and flopped back onto my bed, scrolling through my phone.

_ Peeta (11:05pm): _Later than usual. Went until around 7. Then the showers, an ice bath, dinner...now I’m finally at my hotel room.

**Me (11:06pm):** Ice bath? That sounds...very unpleasant.

But not the worst image. Had he purposely mentioned the shower and ice bath so that I would picture it? If so, it worked. I pictured the thick muscles of his arms straining as he lowered himself down into the tub, face flushed from an intense workout. Felt my own face flush in return. 

_ Peeta (11:07pm): _They are, lol. But they don’t take long. And the few minutes spent soaking is worth it the next morning when you don’t have to lay in bed recovering from sore muscles. 

**Me (11:08pm):** Huh. That’s interesting. And good...I guess?

_ Peeta (11:08pm): _ It’s good, lol.

**Me (11:10pm):** You must be tired. 

_ Peeta (11:11pm): _ Yeah, I’m beat. 

**Me (11:12pm): **I actually just got out of the shower, too. Mine was hot though, lol. Now I’m just getting ready for bed. 

I don’t know what possessed me to say it. Maybe it was due to the fact that they’d started recapping coverage from previous games this season my last hour at work, and a few times when they’d put it into slow motion I was gifted a glorious view of Peeta’s butt in tight spandex pants. _ Up close on a massive screen. _

Maybe it was because thinking about him taking a shower around the same time I’d been taking mine was strangely hot. Or that I was laying there in his sweatshirt and could practically imagine his body wrapped around mine. 

I inhaled deeply, trying to still my rapidly beating heart as I waited for his reply.

_ Peeta (11:14pm): _ That sounds nice. 

Nice? I’d expected for him to not give me too much back to work with, but _ nice? _I debated changing the topic entirely. It was late and we were both winding down for bed, anyways. 

But, I was feeling..._ wild. _ And promiscuous. I knew it was a dangerous game, one that could easily end in disaster but the veil of night lowered my inhibitions for good decision making and I couldn’t find enough reasons to justify not pushing things just a _ little _further.

I caught my reflection in the mirror across the room—in nothing but panties and his Panem Nightlocks sweatshirt, I decided that I would tell him as much. 

** Me (11:15pm):** Yeah, showers are relaxing but not as relaxing as bed…

_ Peeta (11:15pm): _ Haha, that’s true.

_ This is painful. If you’re going to do it then just. do. it. _

**Me (11:16pm):** Are you in bed yet?

_ Peeta (11:16pm): _ Not yet. I’m just looking over a couple of plays first.

** Me (11:17pm): **Nice. I am. I’m laying here in bed with your sweatshirt on, lol. It feels so good.

I slapped the phone down on the table next to the bed and could feel my heart pounding inside of my ears as I lay motionless in bed. I counted to sixty and when I still hadn’t heard the buzz of a new message, I grew anxious.

I unlocked the device and watched bubbles appear and disappear in the corner of the screen until his message came through. 

_ Peeta (11:22pm) _: That so? 

I smiled. 

**Me (11:23pm):** Yes. It makes me think of you. Sometimes when I'm cold I put a shirt on underneath it but most of the time I only sleep with it on. It’s so soft. 

_ Peeta (11:26pm): _ I wish you hadn’t told me that.

My heart sunk. I sat up in bed, re-reading his words but failing to find anything comforting about them. It felt like I’d been doused in cold water. 

** Me (11:27pm):** Is that weird? I can take it off…

His response was almost immediate.

_ Peeta (11:28pm): _No, keep it on. It’s not weird. I like that you sleep in it.

_ Peeta (11:28pm):_ I just meant...now I have an _image_ of you sleeping in it without anything else and I wasn’t sure that was what you wanted, lol. 

Well, shit.

I arched my back on the bed, reaching behind my mattress to crack the window open a bit. The cold wind blowing provided a nice contrast against my hot skin as I arranged myself back into a comfortable position on the bed. 

I wished I could see his face when I replied.

** Me (11:30pm):** I want it.

_ Peeta (11:31pm): _ Good to know, lol.

**Me (11:32pm):** Are you blushing right now? Be honest?

I knew he had to be. I could picture his scarlet face, and the way it made the hair on his short beard appear more blonde by contrast. Could see one of his thick hands move to run itself over the back of his head, bright blue eyes shifting away from the screen, as if even looking at the words were embarrassing.

_ Peeta (11:33pm): _ I think my _ toes _ are blushing, lol. 

**Me (11:33pm):** Guess an ice bath doesn’t sound so bad now, huh? Lol.

_ Peeta (11:34pm): _It wouldn’t hurt.

Then, I went in for the kill.

**Me (11:35pm): **Or you could get into your warm bed and talk with me until you fall asleep. 

_ Peeta (11:37pm): _Katniss? Are you okay? 

**Me (11:37pm):** Yes?

A pause.

_ Peeta (11:39pm): _Okay, just checking. I’m just...not sure why you’re doing this, lol. 

Oh, god. It wasn’t the first time I’d made an off colored comment in front of him, but it was by far the most suggestive. The first time I’d hinted at _ continuing _ a conversation like this.

There was no feigning ignorance now. It was obvious to both of us which direction these texts were heading, and of course Peeta was confused at the suddenness of my racy texts. 

** Me (11:40pm): **I’m doing this because I’m alone in my room, in your sweatshirt and it smells like you. And I feel good. Don’t you want to feel good?

He was thinking it over. I could sense it. I felt it in the delayed reply, like he was staring back at the screen thinking through all the possible scenarios and weighing his options.

I let out a long breath when his reply came through.

_ Peeta (11:43pm): _ Yes.

Well, okay then.

** Me (11:44pm):** Are you in bed, Peeta?

_ Peeta (11:48pm): _Yes.

** Me (11:48pm):** What are you wearing?

_ Peeta (11:49pm): _ Just a t-shirt and my sleep pants. Nothing special, lol.

An adorable image, but far too much clothing.

** Me (11:50pm):** You want to know what I'm wearing?

_ Peeta (11:50pm): _ My sweatshirt? Lol. 

** Me (11:51pm):** Wanna know what else?

_ Peeta (11:51pm): _ Yes. 

I closed the messaging app and opened my camera, angling it down to take a shot of my bare legs with just the barest flash of his red sweatshirt peeking through in the corner. I attached it to my next message and sent. 

** Me (11:51pm):** Underwear, that's it.

Another minute went by without reply, but my screen told me he had received and read it. Had I gone too far, then?

_ Me (11:56pm): _ Peeta?

_ Peeta (11:56pm): _ I’m here. Sorry. It’s just...a lot to process. Lol.

My insides twisted at his words. I could practically picture him short circuiting on the other end of the phone at the image. Already, I could feel myself getting wet with excitement. 

** Me (11:57pm): **Is it turning you on?

The answer was obvious, but _ fuck _ I needed to see him admit it. 

His reply caught me off guard.

_ Peeta (12:00am):_ I'm sorry.

He was sorry? For a minute, I thought he might end the conversation altogether but when no other text came through, I was left staring at my screen blankly. A hint of a smile curved to my lips. His weird but distinctly _ Peeta _ reply was endearing, but I wanted him to know he had nothing to apologize for.

I clicked on his contact information and pressed the phone icon. A moment later the line started to ring, and I waited with shallow breaths for him to pick up.

“Hello?” 

I melted at the sound of his voice. Rough and raspy, from disuse or arousal, I wasn’t sure, but it held the hint of honey that made it his.

“_ I’m sorry _ isn’t an answer, Peeta,” I whispered back to him. He laughed, the action breathless on the other end of the phone and I could hear the rustling of his sheets.

“I didn’t know what else to say,” he admitted lowly.

“Hmm,” I pretended to think a moment. “That’s fair. Are you alone right now? Or do they make you buddy up?” 

“My roommate is still out. I’m alone.”

“Look how that worked out.” I smiled. “So, I’m still waiting for an answer to my question.”

“Hmm?” He sounded as unfocused as I felt. 

“Are you turned on?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle when I heard his answering groan. 

_ “Yes,” _he replied gruffly.

“Me too,” I sighed. “I keep thinking about our kiss the other night.”

“...Yeah?” 

I inhaled deeply, running my hand up and down the length of my stomach absently. 

“If you hadn’t stopped us I probably…” I paused, not knowing if I should continue or not. But fuck, we’d come this far, so why stop now? “I probably wouldn’t have.”

He groaned through the receiver and I closed my eyes, skimming a finger over the soft fabric of my underwear, but not venturing to dip beneath it yet. 

“I didn’t want to.” I could practically hear him swallow with the confession. “But...fuck, it was my car and--”

“I know. I’m lucky my boyfriend is such a gentleman.”

“Boyfriend,” he breathed the word back and I realized it was the first time I’d called him that outloud. 

Yes, he was my boyfriend.

He was _ mine. _

“Are you hard?” I whispered.

There was no point in denying it, and his reply was instant. 

“Yes.” 

I inhaled, feeling my clit throb. When I dipped my fingers lower and traced it over the fabric, it was swollen and sensitive...begging for attention already. I teased it for a second, right against the seam in my underwear, and shivered.

“Is it...big?” I hesitated to ask, feeling stupid. I’d felt it before, a couple of times. Most prominently being the morning we woke up accidentally wrapped up with each other on his couch. I’d seen the outline of it while we were making out, and yeah, I was pretty confident that it was big.

But I wanted to hear him say it. 

“I-I don’t know,” he said, sharing a breathless laugh with me through the phone. “...It is right now.”

I bet.

“Are you touching it?” 

I heard him shift on the bed, heard the rustling of the covers and then his breath ghosted over me, all the way from Florida.

_ “Yes.” _

“I’ve thought about it before.” It seemed so easy to admit to him when we were several states away, beneath the covers in a dark bedroom. Where I couldn’t see his eyes and what emotion they held there. 

“You did?”

“Yeah.” My voice was soft and dreamy. I wanted to be his dream. “They were playing parts of your game on the big screen at work and you know, those little pants you guys wear? They don’t hide very much.”

“No?”

“No. I could tell you were big...everywhere.”

“Yeah,” he exhaled and my hand finally slipped where I wanted it most. 

“Peeta?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m going to take my underwear off, okay?”

_ “Please,” _he practically begged through the phone. I smiled, making a game of shimmying out of them so that he could imagine it on the other end. 

“They’re off, but I’m not touching myself yet. I want you to tell me what to do...what you would do if you were here with me. Please…”

“Oh God, Katniss. I’d...I would…” he expelled a breath. “Run your hands over your stomach. Over your soft skin.”

I hummed my approval.

“Where else?” 

“Your…”

“Say it.”

_ “Breasts.” _My hand slipped up to cup one of my small boobs, where my nipples were hard and rubbing against the fabric of his sweatshirt. 

“It feels so good,” I told him and in the silence that stretched after my admission, I could hear the rhythmic sound of him working his own flesh.

“It would feel so good to have your mouth wrapped around them.”

_ “Jesus, _Katniss.”

I gave a firm squeeze and flicked my nipple, imagining it was his tongue. When he heard my gasp, he responded with one of his own.

We whispered breathy promises to one another. How if we were there together, I would suck on his neck and he would kiss my navel. How I’d pull on his hair and he would scratch my back. When I explained how I would nip on his sensitive skin, all the way up his inner thighs until I reached his cock, he told me that he was close.

“Me too,” I gasped, teasing my clit with quick and firm strokes. When I circled the pad of my finger around it’s length, I couldn’t help the way I panted and my back arched off of the bed.

“God, Peeta. Talk to me.”

“You sound so beautiful,” he admitted, entirely lost within himself. I could actually _ hear _ how quickly he was stroking his cock between our words. _ “So beautiful. _ Come for me, Katniss. Please come, I want to hear it.”

I grunted.

So. Freaking. _ Close. _

“Pretend it’s my mouth on your clit instead of your fingers--”

I fell over the edge with a muffled cry, burying my head into my pillow so as not to accidentally wake Annie. My eyes screwed shut, body convulsed and jaw fell slack as the euphoric feeling of relief washed over me.

In the throws of my passion, I vaguely registered Peeta lost in his own haze of orgasm. His tortured sounds lit my body up with desire once more. I sunk into the mattress, spreading my legs out and listening to his heavy breathing as our bodies came down from their highs and began to relax.

“That was…”

“Yeah.” I finished on a sigh. “I wish I was there. I wish I could’ve seen you.”

“Me too,” he admitted, voice still hoarse. “More than anything.”

I inhaled a deep sigh, glancing at the clock on my phone. It was well after midnight, and though the game against South Florida didn’t begin until five o’clock, I was sure Peeta had more practices and things that would get in the way of his sleeping in. 

“You should go to sleep.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, sounding half on his way out already. It made me giggle and I wrapped my arms around myself tighter, bundling myself in his clothing.

“I’ll be watching your game tomorrow. Cheering you on all the way from Wisconsin.”

His laughter was light on the other end of the phone, like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. 

“Don’t tell me that. I’ll be more nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous. You’ll do great.”

“Thanks Katniss...for...well, it makes me sound like a dick to say _ thanks _ for tonight but...I guess I’m saying thanks for everything.”

“You’re welcome,” I whispered. “Thank you. Goodnight, sleep well.”

“Sweet dreams, Katniss.”

Oh, they would be. 

I clicked off the phone and held it to my chest, studying the ceiling in darkness with a smile I couldn’t shake on my lips. 

I sighed with contentment, finally rolling over to put it on the charger and get more comfortable in the bed.

I was glad that I’d followed through tonight. Yeah, it was a dangerous game and it could’ve ended in disaster, but there was no reward for people who failed to take risks. 

And in the scheme of things, there were much worse games to play. 

* * *

The next evening, when the Nightlock's played South Florida, they crushed them with an end score of 30-0.

Peeta played a pretty amazing game, stopping three different sack attempts and front lining one of the plays that ended in a touchdown. 

I couldn’t help wondering if it had anything to do with our alone time last night. He seemed more invigorated than ever. 

I mean, I wasn’t trying to toot my own horn or anything but...

Toot toot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to reply to everyone's reviews from last chapter. I've been sick and then was trying to get this chapter edited so I could get it out early for you guys. Enjoy your weekend!


	14. December 19-21

* * *

_I want you in my room_

_baby don't you want me too?_

-Carly Rae Jepsen

* * *

On Thursday afternoon, I took my last final and could officially kiss the semester from hell goodbye. 

I walked out the doors of the Science building and took in the fresh snow falling with a sense of peace. Iit felt like now, I could finally look ahead with a renewed sense of excitement and fully focus on the holidays and new year to come. 

Peeta and I made plans to meet in the main concourse of the Union building and then walk back to my apartment together to sneak in some time alone while Madge and Annie were still out. 

I shot a quick text to let him know that I was finished and heading to meet him. A moment later, my pocket buzzed with his reply. 

_ Peeta (12:06pm): _How did it go?

** Me (12:07pm): **Good, I think. Lol.

_ Peeta (12:07pm): _Congratulations on being officially finished! I’ll be there in ten, walking from the library now.

** Me (12:08pm): **Thanks :) See you soon.

It was fine that he would be a few minutes more. It gave me time to grab a hot chocolate from the café without arguing with him over who was going to pay for it. 

With what felt like the weight of the world lifted off of my shoulders, I walked down the halls with more confidence, practically gliding.

“Katniss!”

I stopped short at the sound of my name, and searched the busy area for its owner. My eyes finally landed on Clove, who stood off to the side of the atrium. She wore a bright red t-shirt promoting the Theta Kappa Phi soup kitchen fundraising event and a matching Santa hat. 

I’d forgotten that was going on. She must’ve been working the donations booth with Octavia, who sat behind her at a small but brightly decorated table.

“Hey,” I said, accepting her hug when she reached out for one. 

“Happy end of finals!” she said with far more excitement than I could remember Clove having for much of anything. I felt my eyebrows dip as I regarded her, taking a step back.

“Thanks? You too.” Dear lord, the girl was showing _ teeth _ she was smiling so hard. “...What’s new?” I dared to ask. “You seem...chipper.”

“Cashmere and the rest of the committee voted to have my probation revoked last night,” she squealed. “I officially have all of my privileges back! Tonight the girls are taking me out to celebrate.”

“Congratulations,” I told her, and truly meant it. Clove may have been the initial instigator that ultimately caused our probation, but she had laid low and shown true remorse for how everything went down following the night at that party. She deserved to be back in good graces with the Thetas. 

“It’s such a relief,” she sighed. Her expression changed as she regarded me, seeming to realize that both of us were supposed to be through with probation yesterday, and she coughed sheepishly before talking again. “How is everything going with you? Are you settling into the apartment?”

“Yeah, it’s nice.” I hated how it sounded like I was lying. Clove smiled, but I didn’t miss the sympathy that laced the look. She thought I was lying, too. I realized it didn’t matter what I said. If I talked too much, she’d assume that I was over compensating for something. I chose instead to listen to her talk about the soup kitchen charity event for a few minutes before sticking a donation into her bucket.

“I have to get going. I’m meeting a friend,” I told her, though part of me actually wanted for Peeta to meet me inside, just so they could all watch us walk away together. 

“Okay. Merry Christmas, if I don’t see you.”

“You too, Clove. Enjoy.”

I had enough time to grab my hot chocolate before Peeta arrived. He greeted me with the worlds most awkward side hug before wincing.

“Sorry,” he apologized with a chuckle. “That was weird.”

I shrugged it off. Neither of us were entirely sure of how to act around the other yet, and I cut Peeta some slack since he had even less experience with everything than I did. 

Despite the frigid air, our walk from the main campus to the apartment was a pleasant one. Snow had begun to fall again and the forecast predicted that it would only pick up over night until morning, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for Wisconsin in December. Two and a half years into living here, I’d grown to expect it.

When we walked through the door to the apartment, the only one there to greet us was Madge’s cat, Peter. He nested at the top of his cat tree, rousing from sleep just enough to peer at us curiously before losing interest and tucking himself back into a ball.

When Peeta reached up to pet his soft belly, I heard his quiet purrs fill the living room.

“Have you been here before?” I asked, surprised when Peeta shook his head no. 

“There hasn’t ever really been a reason for me to.”

I smiled a little before spinning around in a slow circle. 

“Well, welcome.”

There wasn’t much to show. Not like his place, but I gave him a quick tour anyways. 

Directly to the right of the entryway was a coat closet and place for shoes. Beyond it was the small kitchen that flooded out into a dining area. The living room was on the opposite wall of the kitchen, where the only natural light came in through a few windows. 

Down the hallway past the dining area were the three doors leading to each of our bedrooms, right on top of the other, and a bathroom on the opposite side of the hallway. 

“Do you want to see my room?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“Come on.” I led him down the hallway to the middle bedroom and flicked the light on. 

I watched with amusement as Peeta attempted to look amazed by the bare bedroom. Despite Madge’s beautiful wall hanging, and the few things I’d picked up during our shopping trip to make it feel more like a lived in space, there still wasn’t much in the way of decor happening inside my room. 

Just a simple bed and desk set up kitty corner to one another. A dresser that hosted a photo of Mom and Dad and another one with Prim and some spare jewelry, and a clock that hung over the top of it.

“It’s really nice.”

“Liar,” I accused, smacking him light-heartedly. He broke into a smile at my jest and ran a hand through his hair.

“It’ll get there, though. I’ve never had so much space before,” I explained, slipping out of my jacket and tossing my book bag into the chair beside the desk. Peeta followed my lead, shedding a few of his layers until he was in just a simple pair of track pants and a long-sleeved shirt. 

Casually, I shut the door behind him, affording us an extra layer of privacy despite the apartment being abandoned. Peeta took note of it instantly, and I watched his bright eyes linger on the door frame before they met mine. 

“I just...don’t want the cat to come in,” I explained, clearing my throat. “He sheds everywhere.”

“Okay.” I didn’t miss the small smile that teased the corners of his lips as he moved back to examine my photos. I watched the way he looked, never touching, but just studied each picture before finally pointing towards the one of Prim. 

“You two look alike.”

“You think?” I tipped my head to the side, studying it. “Usually people just point out our differences. The hair, the eyes…” 

I remembered as a kid being with just Mom and Prim at the grocery store and someone commenting on how great it was that she adopted a child. Mom’s face had turned an angry shade of red and she’d muttered the entire way home about how rude people could be.

“That’s obvious,” he mumbled. “But you guys have the same smile. And nose.”

I looked again and supposed he was right. There were prominent features I shared with my little sister.

“She’s heard a lot about you.”

“Oh?” He seemed nervous at the admission, scratching the back of his head.

“Good things,” I promised. “She wants to meet you, sometime.”

“That would be nice.” He swallowed. 

“I think so,” I agreed. “She loved that cookie recipe I sent her. She told me that she’s made them three times already.”

Peeta laughed, seeming pleased even as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants.

“Tell her that I’m glad.”

“Maybe we can FaceTime some time and you can tell her yourself.”

“Yeah, sure.” 

The air seemed to tense around us. Peeta shifted on the balls of his feet and my eyes glanced over to the bed, wondering if I could get us there without explicitly asking.

“We probably have an hour or so before anyone should be here,” I hedged, practically _ feeling _ the moment understanding dawned on him. 

Almost a week had passed since our phone...conversation. We’d hinted around the subject of it, but hadn’t fully discussed it since he came back from Florida. Despite the fact that the words and feelings had come easily under the veil of separation, Peeta hesitated while standing in my bedroom. 

When our eyes met, the lust I saw in his practically burned me to my core, but his feet stubbornly remained planted to the ground as he waited with bated breath for me to guide him. 

There was no reason to make us both suffer.

I moved in closer to him, until our toes touched and my chest lined up with his stomach. I pulled on the fabric of his shirt, beckoning him down to my height until he obliged to my kiss. 

His lips were sweet and familiar. It amazed me that after only a few weeks, they felt like they belonged to me. 

The hands that he’d shoved down into his pants pockets came out with a little bit of coaxing and I dared to close the small bit of space left between us when they came to rest on my hips.

He traced my lip with his tongue and my legs turned to jelly. I squeezed the biceps that strained under my grasp and ran my hands up and down his arms before reluctantly breaking apart.

“Bed?” I croaked out. “Might be more comfortable.”

He didn’t ask questions, just followed me across the room to my bed and immediately sunk back into a kiss once we situated ourselves. 

It was hard to think back to the time when I felt out of his league. Like he would be _ lucky _ to have me. Laying there next to him, with his hand cupping my cheek, I couldn’t help but feel like the lucky one.

Peeta sensed my hesitation and pulled back. I hated that immediately I saw self doubt and shyness creep into his expression. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I smiled, trying my best to reassure him. “I’m just wondering how a girl like me landed a guy like you.”

I was practically mirroring the words Peeta had spoken to me back in September, when we were alone at the frat house. It didn’t escape his notice. I saw realization in his expression as it softened and he pushed a piece of hair back behind my ear.

“That’s a dumb thing to wonder,” he whispered back, making me laugh before his lips found mine again. 

Peeta’s legs were way too long to lay on my bed horizontally. They hung off the side of the mattress, feet firmly planted on the ground. I slipped one of my legs to rest between his and pressed him back so that he was laying down flush. 

My hand snaked around his soft middle and I felt him tense at the contact before relaxing back into the kiss. After a few minutes, when I moved to get on top of him, he made no qualms. 

As my hips aligned with his, I could feel the prominent outline of his erection. 

I mean, I’d felt it before, but _ holy shit _ never like that. 

Thank you, lord, for track pants. 

And thank you, Annie, for lending me this skirt.

The material rode up around the tops of my thighs with my legs spread across Peeta’s lap and when I moved just right on top of him, it was just my underwear which slid against the thin fabric of his pants. 

Peeta inhaled a breath and his body went still as stone. I felt his thigh muscles tense and couldn’t help the needy sound that escaped from my lungs.

Ugh, he was so strong. My list of things I wanted him to do with those powerful thighs was quickly growing. 

I needed to slow down. As much as I wanted to make good on all of the promises we had whispered to each other over the phone, we weren’t there yet. A frustrating realization. It felt like a lifetime of repressed tension was coming to a head, like every fiber of desire in my body that had been stored away over the past several months was now lit up and ready to go. Damn near unstoppable.

Peeta, apparently, felt the same.

He broke our kiss to tip his head back in pleasure as I continued to steadily rock against him. Eyes closed, mouth slightly ajar, breaths panting. _ Beautiful. _I moved back and forth, across the entire length of his cock and watched his reactions with awe. 

Taking advantage of his exposed neck, I leaned forward and licked the prominent vein that pulsed against my tongue. When I wrapped my lips around his skin and sucked, I could feel the groan ripple up his body and the appeasing twitch that his cock gave.

_ Fuck me. _

His hands slid up and down my sides, over every bump of my ribcage, stopping just below my breasts with each pass. I couldn’t stop rocking my hips. Not when his fingertips were so close to touching me where I wanted most that I could actually scream. 

“Peeta.” His name was spoken like a prayer on my lips. I watched him--face flushed, lips swollen, eyes hungry as they fluttered open to look at me. He waited for me to continue with a look of restrained eagerness. 

“Touch me.”

The simple command made his ears redden. His eyes drifted slowly down to my neck, past my collar bone. Down to where my hard nipples were visible through the thin fabric of my shirt. 

“W-where?” he asked, swallowing. 

I gave his chest a gentle push, until he was laying down flat on the mattress with me still balanced on his lap. 

Sure, neither of us were ready to take things all the way, but there was nothing wrong with a small step in that direction…

I watched Peeta’s fascinated gaze as I lifted my shirt up over my head and let it fall to a puddle on the floor. His breath stuttered and hands shook as I moved them up my bare rib cage again and unhooked my bra. 

“Shit.” The word was so quiet that I might’ve believed it was my imagination if I didn’t feel it exhaled against my skin. 

My nakedness being all the permission he needed to continue, his hands moved up to rest over my chest, tentatively. 

“Don’t act like you’ve never seen boobs before,” I scolded, though it hardly came out intimidating as I could barely breathe. 

He cupped them more firmly, experimentally and when I moaned I felt his hips jerk. 

“Not yours,” he said, hoarsely.

“They’re small.” I had no idea why I was trying to get him to agree with me that they weren’t as good as something he’d had in the past, but the words slipped out before I could stop them. 

Peeta’s glassy eyes met mine with steadiness that made me calm.

“They’re perfect.” 

I melted with his words, leaning in to place a chaste kiss to his lips before leaning further back on his lap. I skimmed my hands down his chest, down to the hem of his shirt in an attempt to even the playing field. 

His hazy expression cleared as he watched me and when I smiled at him, fingertips slipping up under his shirt, he wrapped an arm around my middle and flipped us over so that he was on top of me.

I gasped in surprise, reaching out to find purchase against his neck as he lowered me down onto the mattress. I giggled as he hovered over me, gifting me another kiss. 

I ran my hands through his hair, scratching his scalp and pulling lightly at his curls as he trailed his way down the valley between my breasts. His facial hair tickled the delicate skin as he worked lower, only adding to the sensations that made my skin pebble and hips wiggle. 

When his tongue flicked my nipple, I thought I could come right there from the simple touch. 

My legs hooked around his and I let out a low whine, desperate for more. My eyes screwed shut, hips ground against his and hands tugged at his hair as he continued to tease me to the point of hysteria.

“Please,” I begged. “Peeta, please…”

“Anything.” The word was practically ground out of his mouth as his hips rotated on mine. “Anything you wan--”

His words cut off sharply and we both froze at the sound of the front door shutting loudly. 

“Hello?” Madge’s voice rang out through the apartment, just down the hall from where Peeta and I sat in a very compromising position. “Katniss? You here?”

I could cry from the frustration and loss of Peeta pulling away from me, panic and lust warring in his expression as her shoes clicked on the wood floors down the hallway.

“Shit,” I whispered, reaching to fasten my bra quickly and roll off the bed.

“Hey, Madge. One second.”

I saw Peeta adjust himself from the corner of my eye as I slipped into my shirt and felt a pang of guilt. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed things so far. Especially knowing our alone time was fleeting. I silently wracked my brain, trying to remember if Madge had plans to leave the apartment again today, but came up short.

I flung some notebooks and folders on my bed from my backpack and Peeta positioned one over his lap as I opened the bedroom door to see her standing on the other side.

Her easy smile turned into one of wide-eyed shock as she looked between Peeta and I, and then her pale cheeks flushed, making her freckles stand more pronounced.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

I had no idea what I looked like. Peeta’s hands had been running through my hair and my skin still felt ripe and hot. Glancing back at Peeta’s glowing face, we looked entirely guilty.

“You didn’t,” I insisted anyways, smoothing out my shirt. “We were just studying. No big deal.”

“Studying?” Her genuine confusion wasn’t warranted at the moment. Her head tipped to the side and eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. “I thought you were done with finals today.”

“I-I am.” Fuck, I stuttered. “Peeta, though. Just…reviewing.”

“Oh, okay.” Thankfully, she didn’t press for anymore details. “It’s actually good that you’re here, Peeta. If you guys are almost done, Gale is coming over to bake.”

“I think we were just wrapping up,” Peeta said and Madge smiled.

“Perfect.”

“What are you baking?” I asked, thankful to change the subject. 

“Hanukkah desserts,” she beamed. “I’m teaching him. Practice for next week. I could definitely use the extra help.” 

Peeta and Madge shared a laugh before she skipped back down the hallway to the kitchen to start organizing and prepping everything.

“I’m sorry,” I mouthed, walking closer to him still on the bed. “I didn’t know she would be back this soon.” 

“It’s okay. Probably for the best.”

“Do you have to go? Or can you stay and bake?”

“I can stay.” His smile was warm as he looked up at me, and if I weren’t still shaky from almost being caught, I would bend down to kiss him. “I actually finished all of my finals, too.”

“You’ve made me a liar, Mellark.”

“I won’t tell,” he said with a laugh.

Madge seemed to have successfully killed the mood, because when he stood up all evidence of his arousal was gone. He stayed to help me clean up the books and folders from my bed.

“It’s pretty cool of Gale to come over and bake with Madge,” I said, conversationally as we cleaned. Though he was growing on me as a person, he still didn’t strike me as the ‘holiday baking’ type. Then again, he hadn’t struck me as the boyfriend type, either.

“She’s been good for him,” Peeta agreed, cautiously. “He doesn’t say much about his family or life before coming to Panem, but I know it wasn’t the best. Dad is a drunk and his grandma has custody over his younger siblings now.”

That brought me up short. I paused stacking my folders to stare back at Peeta in surprise. 

“That’s awful.”

I wasn’t sure where that equation left his mother, but I knew it was no place good. My heart twisted painfully in my chest at the realization. 

“I don’t think he got the opportunity to really celebrate many holidays growing up.” Peeta’s mouth was drawn down in a disturbed frown, eyes distant before he shook away a thought. “But, this year is different. He’s going home with Madge next week to spend them with her family.”

“That’s really great.”

Peeta nodded with agreement.

“You’re going home, too?” I asked. 

“Yup, that’s the plan. Next Wednesday. I’ll spend five days in Virginia with everyone and then Mom, Dad and Rye will fly out to California with me for the College Bowl.”

That’s right. The College Bowl takes place the weekend between Christmas and New Years, but the team had to be there several days earlier for PR events and practices. 

“How does Rye feel about spending the holidays away from home?”

“They’re staying in Disneyland, so he’s pretty excited.” 

“I guess that helps.” I smirked.

Gale arrived noisily and we entered the kitchen just in time to catch the tail end of his and Madge’s kiss. His long hair was down, just barely brushing his shoulders, and Madge pushed a piece back behind his ear as they pulled apart.

“You need to put that up,” she said, tugging on a piece sweetly before handing him a hair tie. Gale finally seemed to notice our existence as he stood there tying his hair back.

“Hey Katniss.” He looked genuinely surprised as his eyes landed behind me, on Peeta. “And Peeta. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“We were studying,” he answered lamely, scratching his ear.

“What for? Thought you finished your finals yesterday?”

Madge’s head snapped up in our direction and I watched her push her glasses up higher on the frame of her nose. Surely, Peeta and I were both flushing at being called out.

“One more,” he answered as smoothly as possible. 

“Sucks.” Was all Gale said before pushing the sleeves of his shirt up and clapping his hands together. “Alright, how do we do this?” 

“Okay, Gale, I need you to focus because if you mess this up, my parents will probably throw you out of the house.” 

All of our eyes widened, focusing on Madge as she went up on her tiptoes to reach a mixing bowl in one of the high cabinets. When she noticed us all staring, she broke out in a teasing smile.

“Just kidding.”

“Brat,” Gale snickered, grabbing the bowl down for her easily. 

“But you will impress them and earn serious bonus points,” she said, pointing a finger in his direction seriously. 

“You have my attention.”

“And mine,” I said, sharing the sink with Peeta as we washed our hands. “I want to impress your parents, someday.”

Madge laughed, flipping through the recipe book before settling on _ Sufganiyot. _

It was cute how intensely focused Gale was on getting the recipe right. Madge read off the instructions to us all and he tried his hardest to replicate each step of what she said.

A few hours and a kitchen full of messy dishes and delicious smelling pastries later, we’d made Sufganiyot--which seemed very similar to donuts--marzipan and dark chocolate rugelach and gelt fudge. 

Madge packaged the leftovers into two different containers; one for the boys to bring back to their apartment with them and another for Annie tonight when she got home from _ The Nutcracker, _which she’d be performing in six nights a week for the next three weeks. We had plans to go see her in it together as a group Saturday night before everyone dispersed across the country for the holidays.

Peeta and I tag-teamed dish duty to finish it faster. Once the dishwasher was full and running, we perfected a system of Peeta washing and me drying and putting the remaining dishes away throughout the kitchen until it was practically spotless. 

“You’ve got some chocolate on your face,” he laughed as we finished up.

“Where?” I shrieked, covering it immediately, which only added to his amusement.

“Right here.”

He reached out to wipe it away with his thumb and his touch lingered there a moment as he smiled down at me.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because you looked cute,” he admitted quietly, making my stomach flutter.

“Katniss, Peeta.”

Peeta’s hand ripped away from my face and we both spun quickly to face Gale as he climbed up onto the counter across the kitchen from us.

“We’re going sledding. You guys in?”

“Sledding?” I quirked an eyebrow and Gale’s smirk turned wicked.

“What’s wrong? Afraid you might break a nail?”

“No, I’m afraid you might cry when I beat you to the bottom of the hill.”

“Fuck yes. You’re on, Everdeen!” 

“Jesus, there’s two of them now,” Madge groaned, before retreating to her bedroom to look for warmer clothes to change into.

Because none of us had an abundance of sleds on hand, we made a pit stop at the closest store to buy a couple before heading to the largest hill just off campus. 

As it turned out, we weren’t the only ones with the bright idea to take advantage of the snowy weather with some end of semester fun. The hill was packed with students by the time we arrived, all screaming and laughing. An amusing sight.

“I haven’t been sledding since I was a kid,” I told Peeta as I excitedly pulled our bright green plastic sled behind me. 

“I’ve never been,” Peeta said. “Though once when we were kids we slid down the stairs in our sleeping bags, if that counts.”

“Only once?” I teased.

“Bannock put a hole through the wall with his foot,” he chuckled. 

“So that was the end of that,” I guessed, laughing alongside him.

“Yep. And the start of our drywall lesson.” 

“Well, sledding is similar to that, I guess. Less painful, usually.” 

“Usually?”

“One time I thought it was a good idea to ride down the sled standing up,” I told him sheepishly. “Broke my ankle.”

“Dear lord.”

“Yeah,” I said slowly, fiddling with my braid. “And that was the end of that.”

“No standing on sleds, got it.”

“Hey, Mellark.” Our conversation was interrupted as a student came up and smacked Peeta’s shoulder, friendly. 

It had been a minute since Peeta and I had hung out around campus together, making it easy to forget just how recognizable the guys were around campus. Within minutes of us being there, you would’ve thought Madge and I had shown up with celebrities. I even caught a few girls taking stealth photos...though I was pretty sure their cameras were aimed towards Gale. 

As much attention as Peeta received, Gale seemed to get double. I wasn’t sure how Madge dealt with it, but she appeared oblivious as she scouted out a good place for our sleds and set them down side by side.

“First things first: the race.” Gale said, folding his arms across his chest. 

“You are so eager for me to embarrass you.” I clucked my tongue against the roof of my mouth and shook my head. 

“Pick your sled.”

“Ladies first,” I retorted, making Madge giggle and Gale narrow his eyes. He hopped into the blue sled, dug his heels into the snow, and held himself in position as he got comfortable. 

I climbed into the green sled and lined myself up with his as Madge came around to the front to stand directly in between us. 

“Racers, on your mark...get set...go!”

We used our arms to build momentum before tucking into the sleds and racing down the hill. The darkness of night presented more of a challenge as we slid further away from the street lamps, but it felt good to have fresh air on my face and childlike excitement for something as simple as sledding. 

Gale released a long howl from somewhere to my left and I laughed to myself, focusing attention ahead as my speed continued to pick up. As I approached the bottom, I stuck my foot out to slow myself to a stop and jumped up in victory as I saw him come in behind me.

“Unfair advantage,” he claimed, making me roll my eyes.

“How?”

“You weigh like one hundred pounds less than me. Everyone knows that makes you go faster,” he argued as we started our climb back up.

“Actually, you have that reversed. The heavier the item, the higher the acceleration. So by your theory, you should’ve won. You just suck.”

Gale laughed, _ actually laughed _, showing teeth and all and I felt myself warm, pleased to have made a friend out of him, it seemed.

“In that case, Peeta should go flying down the hill.”

“Not funny.” I frowned. Even though it was clear Gale was teasing Peeta out of love, and not malice, I still felt protective over the sensitive subject. 

“Lighten up, Catnip, I’m just teasing. It’s his job to be a big boy, anyway. He’d be no good at his position if he was a string bean.” 

“I know.” 

“Just more to love.”

“You are so weird.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

My laugh died in my throat as we got to the top of the hill and I saw Portia standing there, smiling and joking with Peeta. When she laughed, she reached out and placed a hand on his bicep flirtatiously.

I felt my jaw clench, but forced myself not to overreact. Peeta was being friendly, of course--they were friends and school partners, after all--but he was giving no indication of romantic reciprocation. 

I wanted nothing more in that moment than to shove my tongue down Peeta’s throat. Make it abundantly clear that he was _ mine. _ But, our relationship was still new. Things were still kept just between the two of us, and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by outing our status so publicly before he was ready. 

It already felt like a million pairs of eyes were on us, as it was.

I walked up casually enough, forcing a tight smile to my lips as Portia’s eyes flickered to mine. We were quite the pair, both faking nicecities to one another for a few terse seconds.

“Who won?” Peeta asked, cutting the tension. My smile broadened as I pointed to my chest and Peeta held up his hand for a high five. When I slapped it, his fingers interlocked with mine for a moment, and I didn’t miss the way Portia’s gaze lingered on it. 

I knew that it was kind of bitchy to feel smug. Portia was just another girl with a crush, it wasn’t anything personal. If our roles were reversed, I would’ve been just as bitter.

It was her stand-offish attitude that turned me off of her. The unnecessary drama that I no longer had time for. 

“Peeta, I want to test a theory,” Gale said, pulling our attention away. “You and me, versus Madge and Katniss.”

“Fine, but then can we please be cute and go down together _ once?” _ Madge asked.

“For you, I’ll go down twice.”

“I’ll catch you guys later,” Portia said, reluctantly turning to head back to her group. “Bye, Peeta.”

“Merry Christmas, Portia.”

“Yeah, you too, Peeta.” 

Gale’s ‘theory’ was right, and he gloated the whole way up the hill when Peeta and him beat Madge and I down. We let him have his moment, laughing quietly together before Madge insisted on partnering up with him, leaving Peeta and I to our own devices.

We stood at the top of the hill together while Peeta’s hands moved along the edge of the sled, timidly. I looked up at him, exchanging an easy smile.

A lot of the early sledders had since left, the cold temperatures and still falling snow making it difficult to stay outside for extended periods too long, but there was still a crowd of stubborn college kids who stuck around.

When another sharp gust of wind hit, I shivered involuntarily and Peeta wordlessly offered me his gloves.

“It’s okay,” I promised, flashing my own thinly knit ones. 

“Those won’t keep you warm.”

“They’re better than nothing,” I retorted. “Which is what you’ll have if you give me your gloves.”

“I’m a hot box.” He extended them out in offering once more, insistent on me taking them, and I had no choice but to admit they were far superior to my one dollar gloves from Walmart. 

“Are you too cold for another round or…” His words trailed off as he looked down the hill to where Madge and Gale were starting to climb back up.

I smiled, nodding my head.

“Let’s do it.”

Peeta climbed into the sled first, scooting all the way back to give me enough space in front of him. I adjusted between his legs, feeling warm at the contact despite our thick layers separating us. His wide arms came to wrap around me, grabbing hold of the thin string at the end of the sled.

“You ready?” he asked, pushing off in the snow when I nodded again.

The hill felt steeper without anything to hold onto and I found myself reaching out for Peeta’s leg to provide stability. I squeezed his thigh, screaming as we picked up speed towards the bottom. When Peeta stuck his leg out to slow us down, it caught on the sled, causing us to flip over and roll through the snow to a stop.

I landed half on top of Peeta, chest to chest and faces mere inches from one another. Peeta’s eyes were wild as he searched my face, pushing the stray pieces of hair away from my eyes, but I couldn’t stop laughing. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I promised, rolling off of him to sit in the snow. “That was so much fun.”

“Fun, she says, as we crash,” he mumbled, unable to help but join into my contagious laughter. “You sure you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” I said again, picking up a handful of snow and rolling it into a ball. Peeta’s face was the picture of disbelief as I threw it directly at his chest. 

“I told you, I never miss,” I teased and Peeta’s expression turned mischievous. 

“Oh really?” he asked, scooping up a new snowball into his bare hands. 

“You don’t want to do that,” I insisted, which only broadened his smile. I scrambled up onto my hands and knees, trying to make a run for it before he could throw. “Your hands will get cold!”

“Oh no, you won’t get off that easily.”

I squealed, jumping up in an attempt to dodge his snowballs.

I was not successful. 

* * *

Saturday night after going to see Annie in _ the Nutcracker _, we all went back to the boys apartment for dessert and present exchanging. 

“Watching you makes me want to change my major,” Madge said, spinning around the kitchen on ungraceful socked feet. “Think I can hack it?”

“You need to work on your form,” Finnick teased her, doing a perfect plié before turning to Annie for approval. She giggled, giving him quiet applause to which he bowed. 

“Jeez, you take like, five ballet lessons and you think you’re the expert now,” Madge muttered, accepting a glass of wine gratefully. 

“Really though, you were amazing, Annie,” I said, giving her arm a light squeeze. “It was mesmerizing watching you.”

“Thank you guys for coming,” she said shyly. “I know it’s not as exciting as a football game...”

“I don’t know, when those rats started fighting the soldiers, I kind of wanted popcorn,” Thresh said with a shrug, making us laugh. 

“We wouldn’t have missed it, Annie,” Peeta insisted, to which we all agreed.

“Okay, enough about me,” she said, sinking into Finnick’s arm with all of the attention. “Let’s open presents.”

“Yes!” Delly exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “I can’t wait to give mine!” 

Madge directed the boys to move the coffee table off to the side, so that we could all sit around the living room floor in a circle for the exchange. Since Delly was practically bouncing in her seat with excitement, we let her go first and she eagerly scooted her gift across the circle to a surprised looking Peeta.

“Me?” he asked and she nodded, biting her lip to contain her smile. He opened the wrapping carefully and pulled out a wooden crate. When he slid the lid off of it, there were four different flavors of olive oils in beautiful artisan glass bottles, and four different kinds of nicely packaged spices for cooking.

We all appreciated how perfect of a gift it was as Peeta admired his new cooking enhancements with eagerness. 

“Wow, Delly, this is so great.”

“I know!” she squealed, making Peeta laugh before he stood up to hug her. 

“Thank you.”

“Okay, Peeta goes next.” Madge directed. 

Peeta got Gale a new video game, one I knew nothing about but thrilled both Gale and Madge, who looked close to ditching the rest of the exchange to go play immediately. Gale had Thresh and Thresh got Finnick. Finnick, to my surprise, had me.

I stared at the package apprehensively, wondering what on earth he could’ve gotten me with how little we knew of each other. I unwrapped the bow and glanced up at him with skepticism to see his careful green eyes focused on me.

When I opened the box, I let out a small laugh at the contents inside. A white and red striped ceramic mug with a bag of mini marshmallows inside of it, a tin of expensive looking hot chocolate and five candy canes tied together in a green bow.

“Figured that might last you a week,” he teased as I sifted through the contents.

“This is perfect.”

“I might’ve had a little help,” he admitted, sheepishly, eyeing Annie. “But the candy canes were all my idea.”

“Thank you.”

He smiled, and for the first time I noticed he had dimples in his cheeks. 

“Okay Katniss, who do you have?” 

“Annie.” 

There was a Youtube makeup artist that Annie really liked and regularly kept up with to replicate looks from. When I saw that she had a new eyeshadow palette out, it felt like the perfect gift to get for Annie. Judging by her reaction, it was a good choice. I don’t think I’d ever seen her smile so broadly.

After gifts we had dessert--chocolate cake made by Peeta, of course--and played some games before calling it a night. It would be my last time seeing Delly until late next month, closer to the start of the spring semester. She was leaving for Seattle tomorrow to be with her family and didn’t plan on leaving until absolutely necessary. 

Madge and Gale were leaving for New York the same day that Peeta headed back to Virginia. Then, it would just be me, Annie and Finnick left.

“Keep the weekend before the start of next semester open,” Annie was saying as I reentered the conversation. “My parents own a cabin up north, I want to do a group trip and stay for a few days.”

“That would be so fun,” Delly agreed. 

“Remember last summer when we went?” Madge asked, grinning. “I think Gale flipped his kayak over more than he stayed in it.”

“It’s harder than it looks,” he grumbled sourly. “At least I caught some fish.” 

“Peeta definitely has to cook again.” Annie reminisced fondly. 

While everyone was talking, Peeta gave my shoulder a gentle tap and subtly motioned for me to follow him down the hallway to his bedroom. 

“You’ll come, right Katniss?”

“Sure, yeah,” I said distractedly. “Um, I’m just going to use the bathroom before we go.”

The girls nodded and I slipped away smoothly, joining Peeta. When he shut the door behind me, I smiled and pulled him down for a kiss.

What started as a quick peck turned to something deeper as our lips continued to find each other, pressing more earnestly together before finally reluctantly pulling apart.

“Did you steal me away just for a kiss?” I asked with a smirk. Peeta chuckled breathlessly before running a hand through his hair.

“No, I wanted to give you something before you left.”

He held out a red envelope towards me, watching nervously as I took it into my hands.

“Can I open it?”

“Uh…” 

His lack of response said it all, and I tucked the envelope into my purse carefully, promising to open it once I got home.

“Thank you,” I said anyways, and Peeta nodded sheepishly. When I wrapped my arms around his body, he accepted the hug easily, before we both agreed that we had been away from the group for too long. I let him go first and rejoined a minute or so later, saying our last goodbyes before Madge, Annie and I made our way back to the apartment.

The envelope was burning a hole through my purse the entire walk home. I wanted so badly to look inside that I immediately excused myself to my room ‘to change’ as soon as we got back.

I ripped it open carefully and as I pulled the card out, another piece of paper fell down onto the bed. It was folded in half and I opened it to reveal a gift certificate to an archery shooting range in Panem. I stared at it for a long moment, reading and re-reading the words before opening the simply decorated holiday card that accompanied it. Peeta’s neat but boyish script filled the space at the bottom. 

_ Dear Katniss, _

_ Merry Christmas. _

_ -Peeta _

_ P.S. Shoot straight. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long(ish) authors note coming at you, sorry!
> 
> Happy Saturday! Another early update because of the Superbowl tomorrow. Seems appropriate, right? Hope you enjoyed and aren't too salty that they haven't done the deed yet. It's coming friends, very soon. 
> 
> Also wanted to throw the idea out there here on ao3. I have fairly extensive outlines for "spin off" stories within 'The Bet' universe for both Gale x Madge and Annie x Finnick in how they came to be couples. I would really like to write them, but was wondering what the response to non-everlark stories might be? I mentioned it on tumblr and the response was pretty well received, so let me know what you think and if it is anything you'd be interested in reading! 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading. You guys make my weekends all the more better :)


	15. December 24-January 1

* * *

_I once believed _ _love would be _ _black and white... _

_but it's golden._

-Taylor Swift 

* * *

“You would think that after working here for so long, I would be immune to the temptation of eating this stuff...but I’m not.” 

I laughed into the phone as Peeta took a bite out of one of the cupcakes from the display, and his mother chastised him in the background. A couple of days had passed since he left for Virginia, but it was the first time we were able to manage FaceTiming. 

It was Christmas Eve, a quieter day than normal for me. Mom usually tried to get the night off from the hospital and when she did, her, Prim and I would bake cookies and watch old Christmas movies until we fell asleep on the couch. Then, come morning, Prim would wake us up with enough Christmas spirit to last a lifetime. Despite being in high school, she would jump up and down like a child, racing around the house before dragging us up to gather around the tree for presents.

This year, I’d have to watch through a cell phone. The idea made my heart hurt with crippling depression. I’d tried my hardest to save enough money for a plane ticket home, but the sudden change in my living arrangement hadn’t helped. It had come down to either buying Mom and Prim presents to have sent back to Pittsburgh, or arriving myself empty handed, and though I knew they would be excited to see me, the idea of Prim having less to open tomorrow morning was guilt-inducing enough to make my decision for me. 

Mom and Prim sent me presents too. They sat lamely in the corner of my bedroom, as Prim was insistent that I not open them until Christmas morning. 

Because of the ballet, Annie stayed in Wisconsin as well. It surprised me at first, that the only day she received off was Christmas itself, but then Annie kindly reminded me that it was in fact a _ Christmas _ ballet, after all. People went to see it as part of their festivities. 

We were on a similar schedule each night, so our days were mainly free to spend with each other which helped ease the loneliness. Finnick popped in a few times too and even stayed to watch cheesy Hallmark holiday movies with us the other day. 

“I hope you bring me back something good,” I told Peeta as he wound around the bakery, giving me the full tour. 

“Anything you want.” 

It was an adorable shop. Soft jazz music piped through the speakers in the background, the decor light and rustic. The entire time we spoke, there seemed to be a steady stream of customers to keep _ Songbird’s _ busy. Not surprising, given its popularity. 

“Last but not least, the kitchen.”

“Peeta, what are you doing?” I heard Evelyn ask him, exasperated. “I need you to frost another two dozen cupcakes.”

“Sorry, I was just showing Katniss around the bakery.”

“Go before you get into trouble,” I chuckled, sprawled across my bed.

“Katniss is on the phone?” she asked and then a moment later came into view. Evelyn smiled broadly, waving into the device at me. 

“Merry Christmas!” she asked, completely hijacking the call. When Peeta reached for his phone, she slapped his hand away and told him to get into the kitchen.

“Thank you, Merry Christmas to you, too.”

“How are your holidays so far?”

“Good.” I lied, and Evelyn saw straight through it. 

“You stayed in Wisconsin?” 

I nodded. 

“I went to school out of state, too. I know how difficult it can be to get back home, sometimes.”

I didn’t want to cry, especially in front of Peeta’s mother, so I bit the inside of my cheek and only offered her another nod. 

“This summer you’ll have to come visit Virginia and see the bakery for yourself,” she invited, changing the subject with a lighter tone in her voice. 

“It’s a trap.” Rye appeared in view, grinning wickedly at his mother’s frustration. “She’ll make you work, Katniss!”

“I can’t even get my own sons to work, you think I would force her?” she asked, shooing him away. When she noticed me laughing into the receiver, her expression softened and she matched the sound.

“I’ll give you back to Peeta, but keep it in mind, yes?”

Oddly, I didn’t find the invitation to be weird or even a bad idea. 

My mind jumped ahead of itself before it could be stopped. Images of road trips with the bright sun and windows down in Peeta’s massive truck. How we could detour through Pittsburgh for a few days and he could meet Prim and Mom. The serene scene of waves crashing on the beach in Virginia. Light orange skies at sunset. Frosting cupcakes with Peeta and playing with Peeta’s nieces. Teasing Rye.

I wanted it to be my reality. 

“Thank you, Evelyn. That sounds...fun.”

When she passed the phone back to Peeta, he propped it against the wall and put on a pair of thin gloves before going back to frosting the naked cupcakes. It was fascinating to watch, the way he swirled the piping bag around each pastry so easily, making them look like a collective dream together.

“What time does your flight take off?” 

The Mellarks were heading to California, along with the rest of the Nightlock team, for the College Bowl. The game wasn’t for another few days, but the team would be busy with press conferences and practices leading up to it. Finnick said one of their events was scheduled to be at Disneyland--a major perk of the corporation owning ESPN--and then they would be able to play in the parks for the rest of the day. 

I knew once Peeta left Virginia our conversations would be less frequent until he got back to Panem next week. Sae’s was desperate for people to work, so I picked up several shifts throughout the weekend, a distraction from the nagging loneliness that crept in with most of my friends being out of town. 

I told myself that after such a busy semester, it might be nice to take a few days to myself and reset, anyways. I still hadn’t fully unpacked since moving in with Madge and Annie and mentally added that to my checklist of things to get done while I had the time. 

“Six o’clock,” Peeta answered. “It’ll be late when we land, so I’ll message you in the morning.”

_ “Aw, isn’t that sweet?” _ Rye’s voice echoed in the background, and Peeta gave him an exasperated look. 

“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll let you go so you can get some work done. I want to keep Evelyn in my corner.”

“I think she’s just happy to hear we’re dating,” Peeta laughed, still busy frosting. “It’ll take a lot more than this to deter her, now.” 

I didn’t remind him that the entire start to our relationship was enough to warrant his mothers distrust if she found out, but it didn’t stop the ball of culpability from forming in the center of my chest. 

I wondered if that would ever go away.

“Have a safe trip,” I said, instead. “Try to get some rest.”

“Thanks, Katniss. Merry Christmas. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

I waved goodbye before the call disconnected, then looked around the empty apartment with a blank stare. Madge’s cat pressed his way through my bedroom door and jumped up on my bed, nuzzling my hand and purring.

“Well, Peter,” I sighed, scratching behind his ears. “Now what?” 

* * *

Sae’s was at full capacity by noon on the day of the College bowl. 

Last year, the Nightlock’s hadn’t made it through the playoffs, so this season people were making up for lost time. Locals and students alike gathered into Sae’s to watch the game from the giant screens on either side of the restaurant and the place was so full that we had to start turning people away. 

Haymitch called a mandatory staff meeting before opening shifts. When I first saw the text message, I thought it was a touch dramatic of him, but now we couldn’t even offer sit down service and had resorted to taking all orders--food and drink alike--at the bar. 

“This is insane,” I muttered under my breath as I filled five cups of soft drinks at the same time. The only place it seemed there was a little space to move was behind the bar, and I wasn’t too keen on leaving it. 

“Yeah, but think of the tips,” Marvel commented beside me, working just as briskly. 

He had a point. My shift was just two hours in and I already had fifty dollars in tip money. 

“Thanks,” a fresh faced kid, who I was guessing was in his first year at Panem, said. He set down a couple dollar bills in exchange for the drinks.

_ Make that fifty-three. _

“I’m sure that you need all the tip money you can get, now that you’re a big girl with your own apartment.”

The rent at Madge’s place wasn’t as bad as I’d anticipated actually. She insisted that December’s payment was already taken care of, and if I chose to stay through the next semester then I could start paying her in January. Split three ways, rent and utilities were three hundred dollars. Without so much of my time blocked off in commitment to Theta, it wasn’t hard to round up the money and even have some to spare with working at Sae’s.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Do you miss Theta?”

How did I answer this diplomatically? I missed a lot of the girls that I’d gotten used to seeing daily, but we all still followed each other on social media and once the new semester started I would probably see them around campus and at the gym. I missed the house and the stream of entertainment it provided. I didn’t miss the noise and lack of privacy. Didn’t miss the tight schedule and expensive dues. Didn’t miss the way it inadvertently messed with my way of thinking and reputation.

“No,” I replied. Screw diplomacy, it was the truth. When it came down to the heart of the matter, there really hadn’t been many days since I got kicked out that I truly missed it. It wasn’t a dig at any of the girls, or even the sorority itself. I just came to realize that it wasn’t meant for me.

Coming into Panem as a Freshman, I’d felt so alone. When Delly took me under her wing and introduced me to the girls at Theta and I was accepted, it felt like that was supposed to be my path. It wasn’t until now that I’d finally branched out of that comfort zone and met other people--people who truly _ were _ like me and I shared so much in common with, that I realized I had settled too soon when I shouldn’t have given up the search.

Part of me thinks that either way, I would’ve stayed friends with Delly. That somehow, hopefully, I would’ve found my way back to Madge and Annie. 

And Peeta? I definitely would’ve found him. 

Marvel laughed, popping my thought bubble.

“Yeah, I didn’t figure. You never really fit in with those girls.”

I pinched my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you always had to try so hard.” At my silence, he elaborated. “Do you think Cashmere _ tries _ to be in a sorority? Octavia? Any of those girls? It comes naturally. Watching you hang around them was like watching that scene from Bambi, where he’s trying to walk on ice and keeps falling.”

I scowled, which only made Marvel laugh harder.

“Thanks.”

“Look, in all seriousness. I think it’s for the best.”

“Me too.”

“You still hanging out with Mellark?”

“We’re friends.” I truly_ despised _the word. 

“It’s gotta be easier now.”

The restaurant broke out in rowdy applause as a touchdown was scored in the Nightlocks favor and over the mess of chaos, Marvel smiled at me.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It is.”

“Good. Happy for you, Kat.”

My shift was over around four, but I stayed to help out through the remainder of the game. There was no denying the clean up was going to be massive afterwards, and I needed the money. Plus, it didn’t hurt that I got to watch the game on one of Sae’s large screened televisions. 

I was insanely jealous of the bright blue skies and warm temperatures broadcast from Los Angeles. Staring out at the cloud covered sky and snowy ground through the windows had me wondering how Peeta was ever going to come back after spending so much time in far better weather.

I knew one way to make the transition easier, though.

Last time Peeta and I had been alone we were interrupted by Madge coming home. We hadn’t really spoken about all that went down that day--just casual mentions of it when we were whispering to each other through the phone at night. But, I was pretty sure that if Madge hadn’t come home...we might’ve had sex. 

The thought was an insane one. One that made my entire body feel warm and kept a smile on my face. I wanted it and I was pretty sure that Peeta wanted it, too. It was just finding the right timing. 

I had a new text message from Prim on my phone when I finally managed a break. It was a photo of her wearing the new leather boots I’d bought her for Christmas, accompanied by three heart emojis.

_ Prim (3:45pm): _Best. Sister. Ever. 

**Me (4:57pm)**: Impossible, that’s you.

I was glad she liked them, though. Mom said they were all she had been talking about for months. Along with them, I gave her a bracelet and a few other smaller things. Mom and Prim sent me a couple of sweaters, a pair of the fuzziest socks I’d ever owned, new supplies for next semester and cash. 

I tried not to be the most excited about the last one, but it was a welcomed surprise. 

_ Prim (4:58pm): _Barf, lol. 

_ Prim (5:00pm): _Still at work?

**Me (5:00pm): **Yeah, I stayed late to help out. We’re slammed.

_ Prim (5:05pm): _I’m watching the game. I’ve decided that I need a hunky football player boyfriend in college. Or just like, any sport will do. I wouldn’t mind watching hockey. Or basketball.

_ Prim (5:06pm): _Wrestling works too. Or swimming. Mmm, those little speedos.

**Me (5:07pm): **Don’t be gross.

_ Prim (5:08pm): _C’mon. You totally check out Peeta Bread’s package in those tight pants. Don’t lie.

She wasn’t wrong. But there was a line I refused to cross with my little sister. That line being discussing my boyfriends ‘package.’

**Me (5:09pm): **Peeta Bread??

_ Prim (5:10pm): _I thought it was clever, lol.

_ Prim (5:10pm): _Do you miss him? 

**Me (5:11pm): **Yeah.

_ Prim (5:12pm): _Awww. Bet he misses you, too.

I smiled, because he did. He’d told me as much this morning when we last spoke. 

It was distressing how quickly and fiercely I found myself missing him. It was the longest we’d been apart since becoming friends. I never wanted to be one of those girls who depended on a man. I still wasn’t. I could function and go about life just fine without Peeta by my side.

It just wasn’t as fun.

I sighed, reminding myself that it wasn’t pathetic because he felt the same way. We were quickly becoming a unit. Better together. And, I liked that.

Only two more days, and he would be back in Panem. 

I typed out a quick message to Prim, before returning to my shift. 

**Me (5:15pm): **Yeah, I bet so too. 

* * *

Annie performed in her last show of _ The Nutcracker _ on Sunday night and Madge came back from visiting home that same night. We spent Monday together, sufficiently lazy in front of the television and I don’t think any of us changed out from our pajamas until after three in the afternoon.

Not even two weeks since the last of my finals had passed, and already my sleep schedule was fucked. 

I rolled over in my bed with a deep sigh, unable to fall asleep despite the late time of night. 

It was just one of those nights. Nothing was particularly weighing on my mind. There was no pressing matters to attend to that kept me from bed. I just laid there, watching television in my dark room, hitting episode after episode without the drowsiness of sleep ever coming.

Thank god I was on winter recess and could sleep in tomorrow.

One in the morning. That meant it was only eleven in Los Angeles. Peeta was probably asleep, it had been a few hours since we last spoke and I was sure his flight back to Panem was early tomorrow, but I took a chance messaging him anyways. 

**Me (1:03am): **Tell me something good. 

_ Peeta (1:04am): _Why are you still awake? 

**Me (1:05am): **Can’t sleep. Madge and Annie both passed out. I’ve been watching Netflix with the cat. 

_ Peeta (1:06am): _Gave up trying to keep him out of your room?

**Me (1:07am): **It was an impossible task...

_ Peeta (1:06am): _Lol. Hmm, tell you something good, huh?

**Me (1:06am): **Please. 

_ Peeta (1:07am): _I could text it to you. Or I could come over and tell you in person? If you’re not going to sleep, anyways… 

I jolted upright in bed, staring hard at my phone as if he could see my expression through it.

**Me (1:07am): **You’re here?? In Panem?

_ Peeta (1:08am): _Yeah...

I was sick of texting. I clicked the icon to call him and heard it ring twice before he answered.

“Hello?” His voice held an amused edge to it that made me smile.

“When were you going to tell me you were back?”

“Our plane just landed a bit ago. I thought you were asleep,” he laughed and I felt my cheeks heat. 

“Oh.”

“I was going to surprise you in the morning,” he said, voice somewhat sheepish and I bit back my smile, giddy and far from tired with the sound of his voice.

“Where are you now?” I whispered. 

“Driving back from the airport.” He paused for a moment, silently debating before asking. “Do you want me to stop by?” 

_ Yes. Is this even a question? _

“If you aren’t too tired.” I knew he had been going nonstop for the past week and a half. He had to be close to passing out. 

“Katniss?” I paused at the sound of his voice, inhaling. 

“Yes?”

“I want to see you.”

There was no holding back my smile now. 

“Then come.”

Fifteen minutes later, my phone vibrated on the table next to me with a new message from him, telling me he was outside. 

I climbed out of bed, not bothering to change from my pajamas and tiptoed out of the apartment and downstairs to where his truck was waiting with the headlights dimmed. 

His welcoming embrace was familiar and warm and I buried my face into the side of his head, breathing in the scent of his hair as he held me against him. 

We spent the first few minutes of our reunion kissing, the next talking about our time apart. Peeta told me stories from California, all about how they celebrated after winning the College Bowl, and I told him about how crazy Sae’s had been the day of the game. We kissed more--making up for lost time--before something dawned on me. 

“Where do Finnick and Gale think you are?” I asked, to which Peeta shrugged his broad shoulders indifferently. 

“I don’t know that they even realize I’m not at the apartment,” he admitted. “We were all pretty beat. They probably just went right to bed.”

“We better keep this short, then,” I said, somewhat resigned. After so much travel, Peeta needed sleep anyways. And the last thing I wanted was for Finnick or Gale to get suspicious. 

“Or we could just tell them the truth,” Peeta laughed, and it was hard to tell whether or not he was joking. I snorted a little, a soft breath through my nose and rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, I can picture their reaction now.”

“I don’t think it will be all that bad. They like you.”

So, he wasn’t joking, then. I could see in his eyes that he was waiting for a reaction and I hesitated, not wanting to say or do the wrong thing. 

But the idea of coming clean about our relationship--to friends or not--had my palms sweating and heart rate excellerating. It was too soon. We hadn’t even been official for a full month and it felt like Peeta and I were still finding our groove. 

I just didn’t want other people’s opinions or watchful gazes and unsolicited advice affecting whatever was growing between the two of us. It was difficult enough the way things were now. Was it too much to ask for us to reside in our safe little bubble just a while longer?

“I don’t know,” I murmured, watching his careful expression for any sign of disappointment. Whatever his feelings on the matter, he hid them well, schooling his face into a neutral mask. “I’m not ready. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Katniss,” Peeta promised, fumbling with his hands in his lap. “I don’t mean to pressure you.”

“I know that.”

“Just wanted you to know that...I mean, I’m open to it. Whenever you are.”

“Okay.” I leaned in to kiss him, an action that Peeta readily accepted, and felt my eyes close in contentment as our lips pressed together. I missed everything about him. The taste of him on my tongue and the way his fresh scent filled my lungs with each inhale I took against him. The way his large, strong body made me feel small when he wrapped an arm around me and how I knew so long as I was beside him, I was safe.

“Thank you for coming to see me tonight,” I said when we broke apart. Peeta reveled in the way I pressed a hand through his hair, leaning into the touch like a man starved of attention. When I kissed his rosy cheek, his expression brightened.

“Of course. I missed you.”

I knew he did, but it was nice to hear it all the same.

“You should go home and get some rest now. I don’t want you falling asleep behind the wheel.”

“Okay,” he agreed, letting out an unconscious yawn as if proving just how tired he was. “I’ll see you tomorrow, or...I guess today,” he joked.

“Yes you will. I’ll see you then.”

Peeta waited to drive off until I was inside of my building. As I crept back into the apartment and down the hallway to my bedroom, I didn’t feel the same pulse of excitement at having a secret for just the two of us as I did before.

It wasn’t thrilling, anymore. That rush that had been present only a few weeks earlier had vanished, leaving a stirring of guilt and loss in its place. Like I was missing out on something because of my insistence of not being open about everything.

It was nearly dawn by the time I finally found sleep. 

* * *

New Years Eve had never been one of my favorite holidays. The week between Christmas and New Years felt like a portal into nothingness--a week that might as well have been an entire year for how long it felt. No real commitments, no point of self purpose. Just...existing.

The closer it got to New Years Eve, the more depressed the air started to feel. The skies felt grayer in the absence of bright and festive decor and what decorations were left up from Christmas felt misplaced, like they've overstayed their welcome. It was weird.

For the first time, though, I found myself excited about it. It was the relief that I needed, knowing that this year would be officially wiped away and I could start with a fresh clean slate. 

The Seam was having a New Years Eve party, down on the District. I’d seen it advertised on flyers and through word of mouth around campus and had to admit that it sounded pretty fun. On theme drinks, music and a live countdown to usher in the new year.

I could watch the ball drop in my pajamas for all I cared, as long as Peeta was there.

Everyone was planning on going out together to celebrate though, which made it more exciting. The only person we would be missing was Delly, who was still in Seattle with her family. I wondered if Thresh would still come out without her.

I didn’t want it to look too _ coupley. _I hoped that people would be too distracted with each other and drinks and the celebration of it all to pay close attention to Peeta and I. 

Getting ready to go out with Annie and Madge was much different than it was at the sorority house. There was no fighting for mirror time in the bathroom, no multiple outfit changes or coordinating themes. It wasn’t that I minded all of that--some of my fondest memories were all of us getting ready together in the house; curling each other’s hair and zipping up dresses. But there was a comfort in the calmness that Annie and Madge exuded. 

Madge walked around in an oversized sweater and jeans that I assumed she would change out of once she was finished getting ready. After applying a touch of makeup and letting her hair down from its high pony, she came around the corner with a carrot stick hanging out of her mouth, claiming she was ready. 

Annie was the kind of girl who could slap on a little mascara and call it a day. She pinned her long hair up into a low bun and ran her hands over the slim-fitted sweater dress she’d donned before sliding on a matching pair of boots. 

Their simple, understated wardrobe made me feel less self conscious about my own budget-friendly closet. Even though we would be out amongst people whom far out dressed us, the girls’ casual take on the holiday was relaxing. I opted for a pair of jeans too, matched with a cute top I’d stolen from Prim last summer while visiting home. 

“Don’t straighten your hair,” Annie insisted, the command out of character for her. She flushed when I raised an eyebrow up at her, holding the plug to my straightening iron in my hand still. 

“I just mean...I like it natural.”

“Okay,” I smiled, unplugging it and wrapping the cord up. “Then, I guess I’m ready.” 

The District was packed by the time we walked down it. It was barely ten o’clock and people were already drunk and rowdy. 

The plan was to meet up with Peeta, Finnick, Gale and Thresh in front of Sae’s, but midway down the strip, Madge got a text from Gale telling us to meet them inside and that they’d managed to snag a table that they were saving. 

The bar was crowded, but that was to be expected. It was hard to recognize it as the small college dive I did trivia at religiously last year. Music pumped through the speakers and strobe lights flashed in different colors. 

“I think they’re back here,” Madge said, pointing to the same corner of the bar they had taken over that night back in September. 

As Annie and I trailed behind her, I felt a strange sense of déjà vu in being there. Especially when I caught sight of a shapely blonde in a low cut sequins dress, leaning on the bar and talking with Peeta.

I did a double take, thinking that it absolutely had to be my subconscious playing tricks on me. But no, that was definitely Peeta, blushing and averting his eyes. 

And definitely Glimmer.

“What the hell?” I whispered harshly, loud enough to catch Madge’s attention. Her eyes followed my line of sight and she winced, not daring to stop me as I made my way over to them. 

Protectiveness had me on edge. What was she saying to him? What was she thinking?

It had been two and a half months since I last saw Glimmer, and we hadn’t exactly left things on the sweetest of terms. But when she saw me, her glossed lips turned up in a wide smile and she threw her arms around me, like we were still best friends.

“Babe, where have you been hiding?” she asked, kissing my cheek. “You know, this campus is big but it’s not _ that _ fucking big.”

“Hi Glimmer,” I replied, stiffly, looking between Peeta and her. His eyes shifted, uncomfortable and I felt my shoulders tense. 

“Kind of funny we all ended up back here tonight, huh?” she giggled.

“Hilarious.”

“I heard through the grapevine that you left Theta,” she said, winking at the bartender as he slid a mixed drink across the countertop. I didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered over her in appreciation long after she’d looked away. 

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Good for you. Don’t get me wrong, it was fun and everything, but Cashmere was _ so _restrictive. I have my own place now and let me tell you: freedom is paradise.” 

“That’s what I heard.”

“People talk.” She smirked, taking a sip of her cocktail. “I better get back to my crew, but it was good running into you. Let's get coffee soon, yes?” 

I forced a tight smile until she snaked her way around me, heading in the opposite direction I’d seen Madge going. Thank God for small miracles. 

“That was your friend...from…?” He trailed off, and it dawned on me that he might’ve not instantly recognized Glimmer. They’d never been formally introduced, and the night she barged in on us at the frat house, the whole thing had been so dark and confusing, he probably hadn’t gotten a good look at her. 

I nodded tightly, irrationally angry over the slight flush to his skin.

“Did she say anything to you?” I didn’t expect that Glimmer would’ve publicly harassed him. She was a bitch, but a sneaky one. Her work was more backhanded and behind the scenes than it ever was outright, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make people squirm when she wanted. 

Peeta hesitated to answer, and I felt guilty for having put him on the spot. 

“Nevermind, you don’t have to tell me,” I insisted. If she’d done something to embarrass him, I didn’t want him to feel like he needed to repeat it. “Madge said you guys found a table? I think it’s over this way.”

“Katniss, hold on a second.” Peeta’s hand entwined with mine, and he pulled me back towards the bar gently. When I twisted to face him again, I struggled to read his expression.

“Glimmer did say something to me,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Okay…”

“She told me that when you made...the bet--” I flushed at the mention of it. “It wasn’t part of the plan for everyone to find out. The camera, the uploads...it just sort of happened.”

I swallowed heavily and Peeta exhaled, nervous, but continued.

“She said she didn’t know that we were upstairs. That the kiss was real.”

“It was real,” I whispered.

“I know. I believed you when you told me.” His words held enough conviction that I believed him. “I just...I’m telling you what she said.”

“Okay.” I didn’t know what else to say. His admission shocked me, honestly. The day we were put on trial for Theta, Glimmer was so insistent that we had done nothing wrong. So intent on blaming everyone else. Though this was hardly owning up to her part in things, the fact that she’d come clean as much as she had to Peeta was surprising. 

“Anything else?”

He smirked a little bit as he regarded me. 

“She said you were mad.”

A breathy laugh escaped through my nose and I rolled my eyes a little, unable to help the smile that curved my lips.

“That part isn’t exactly true,” I said. _ “Mad _ is an understatement.”

Peeta chuckled as we made our way back over to join our group of friends. The timing in which the guys had managed to snag a table had been great, because already there was no other available seating within the bar. We would be defending our spot to the death in order to make it to the New Year. 

I slid into the half booth next to Annie, semi across the way from Peeta, and grabbed one of the cups of beer already poured. 

It was quarter past eleven when Finnick snagged Peeta and disappeared to the bar for another round of refills and drink orders. 

My body was humming with a steady buzz, enough that I felt loose and comfortable but nearly enough to feel out of control. Glancing around the bar, I couldn’t say the same for everyone within it. Those days, though not long ago, were not ones I looked back on fondly. 

As we sat around the half empty table, Madge seemed to focus in on Thresh, who sat quietly, pushing his empty glass from one hand to another. 

“You seem down,” she commented, studying him with concerned eyes.

“I’m good.” His promise was unconvincing.

“You know, as a society we have a bad habit of hiding our emotions. Especially--and I hate to call you out like this, but--men. There’s nothing wrong with expressing your feelings.”

“We’re all out having a good time,” he commented. “This ain’t the place.”

“Hmm.”

Thresh’s eyes, which had been glued to his hands, flickered up at Madge’s contemplative sound. 

“Dude, she’s going to crack you. Whether you like it or not,” Gale said. “Might as well give up.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You miss Delly,” Madge stated, and Thresh looked surprised. 

His naturally stoic face twisted into the most emotion I had seen since meeting him, dark eyes widened and full lips parted without sound.

“I--she’s only been gone a week,” he protested.

“So?”

“So, you can’t miss someone who’s only been gone one week.”

“That’s not true,” I said before I could stop myself. When several sets of eyes landed on me, I felt my skin flush and fiddled nervously with my hair.

“I mean, I missed my sister as soon as I left home last time.”

“That’s different. That’s family.”

_ “Hmm.” _ Madge hummed her tuneless song again, and this time Thresh’s aggravation showed.

“What _ hmm?” _ he demanded.

“Nothing,” she shrugged. “It’s just interesting, is all.”

“No it ain’t,” he grumbled, accent thick even in his low timber. In the silence, he chanced another look back at Madge, begrudgingly giving in and asking her what was interesting. 

“I just didn’t realize you loved her.”

“I don’t.” 

“Okay.”

_ “Okay?” _

I bit my lip to keep from smiling. It was hard not to find humor in Thresh’s increasing frustration. He looked about ready to pull his hair out, if it had been long enough.

“If you say so,” Madge answered, sweetly.

“What do you say?” Finnick asked, setting down a tray of drinks in front of us all. Thresh grabbed his beer and chugged half of the glass in one sip. 

“Thresh is in love with Delly.”

“You are?” Finnick asked, and that time, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped me. He was so earnest and invested as he slid into the booth and slung an arm around Thresh’s shoulder.

“Congrats, bro.”

“He never said he was,” Annie said. “Madge is projecting, again.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it,” Thresh muttered. “She’s digging straight down into my soul.”

“I told you she’d crack you,” Gale snickered.

“She didn’t crack me! Jesus, what is this? I feel like I’m on Dr. Phil.”

“So...you don’t love Delly then?” Finnick asked, egging him on. Thresh released a low growl.

“I--I don’t know. We--” he cut himself off and our small table went silent, patiently waiting.

“Just before she left, we were discussin’ where things were headed between the two of us. After graduation, and all that. All that talk about the future...I’ve never been in a long term thing, you know? I just sort of...panicked. And it ended in a fight. I feel like shit.”

“It’s a lot of change,” Annie agreed, quietly. “I understand why it could be scary.”

“Yeah, but sometimes it’s the scary stuff that ends up being the best,” Finnick said, winking at Annie who smiled, shyly. “Nothing worth fighting for comes easily.”

I chanced a glance up at Peeta and caught him staring back at me. His calm blue eyes bored into me with an intensity that shot down to my core. When his foot touched mine beneath the table, I knew we were thinking the same thing. 

No, it hadn’t come easily but I wouldn’t have changed anything if it meant not getting to this point. 

I offered a small smile and Peeta’s skin flushed, all the way up to his ears before we both turned to look down at our drinks.

“I know all of that,” Thresh sighed. “I’m just...I’ve never been a big risk taker, you know?”

_ I’m tired of always taking the wrong risks. _

“Choosing Panem was a risk,” Peeta said quietly. “Could’ve gone to UT. Or Alabama.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He admitted, and then laughed. “I love y’all, but this place is white as hell.”

When our laughter died, Madge placed a hand over Thresh’s thoughtfully.

“There’s nothing wrong with being scared.”

_ I am scared. Scared that things will change if we tell people. Scared to be judged. _

“You just have to decide if the positive things make the risk worth taking, because if they do...you don’t want to lose it over something as silly as fear.” 

I knew she was talking about Thresh and Delly, but I couldn’t help thinking that Madge was right. I didn’t want something as ridiculous as fear to rule my future and impact my relationship with Peeta.

Now that I had him, I refused to let him go. 

“You’re right,” Thresh sighed, scrubbing a hand over his short hair. Thresh had always been on the quieter side--a stark contrast to Delly’s vibrant and outgoing personality--but he looked so crestfallen sitting there. Out of character for the boy who usually at least had a smile for everyone. The fight with Delly had been weighing on his mind. Leave it to Madge to finally get it out of him.

“I don’t know if it’s too late,” he admitted quietly. 

“You said so yourself, it’s only been a week,” she reminded him gently.

“Yeah, but she won’t be back to Panem for another two weeks.”

“There’s this amazing invention called a telephone,” she teased, finally cracking a smile out of him. “I hear you can even video chat with them these days.”

“You think I should call her?” 

The entire table voiced their agreement to the idea before Finnick and Peeta slid from the booth to let Thresh out. He had his phone in hand already, fumbling to unlock it as he made his way to the front door. 

“Oh, young love,” Finnick sighed wistfully. 

I couldn’t focus on the conversation that continued. Everyone was laughing and drinking but I could only force the barest of smiles, brain too preoccupied by the thoughts rapidly running through it. 

Madge’s words of advice to Thresh were running on repeat. What really was there to be so worried about? A few judgemental comments online? A couple of uncomfortable stares from strangers? 

The people that surrounded me at the table, I considered to be my friends. Even the hard to come by ones, like Finnick and Gale. Peeta was right. I was worrying over something that hadn’t even happened, and probably wasn’t going to. 

But it was so much easier to convince myself internally than it was to actually do anything about it. 

_ Are you really going to let fear ruin everything? _

The look on Peeta’s face last night rang in the forefront of my mind. He’d been accepting. Kind and patient, as always, but there was a touch of hurt in his expression that I hadn’t noticed right away. Like he thought my hesitancy was coming from a place of embarrassment over him.

Ever attuned to my moods, Peeta sensed my disengagement. I saw him chance a few looks in my direction quizzically, before I announced that I needed fresh air.

“Just a little stuffy in here.”

The closer it got to midnight, the more crowded the bar seemed to be, and I only made it about halfway to the door before I felt a strong hand touch my shoulder. I turned at the contact, immediately, but Peeta didn’t let go. 

“Is everything okay?”

“No. It’s not,” I sighed. I saw the anxiety in his expression as he waited, shifting subconsciously on his feet. “Peeta, I’m sorry.”

“What are you--” his words broke off as I leaned forward, intent on kissing him, and he took a cautious step back.

“Katniss?” His furrowed eyebrows deepened as he stared back at me, stunned. “What’s going on?” 

“I don’t want to hide anymore,” I told him. “I don’t want to let the fear of what these idiots think ruin something I know is good.”

“Are you--did you drink too much?”

“No,” I chuckled and some of Peeta’s tension seemed to ease. “I’m just tired of the games, Peeta. I know you are too. You were right last night when you said we should just come clean. I was being a coward, and it was nice of you to be patient with me but...this is what I want.”

Peeta swallowed thickly, looking down at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. I placed a careful hand on his chest and slid it up over the expanse of his tight arm muscles, holding him there.

“You’re what I want.”

My eyes shut on instinct when Peeta leaned down to kiss me. As our lips met, it felt like a weight had been lifted. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trapping him, and raised up on the tips of my toes to make it last a moment longer. 

“No going back now,” I whispered as his shaky hand pressed a piece of my hair back from my eyes.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“You guys it’s almost--” Annie stopped mid-sentence, pale cheeks flushing deep red as we broke apart languidly to meet her stare.

“Um.”

“We’re coming,” I said, entwining my hand with Peeta’s large one as we walked back to meet our group. 

When Madge noticed our linked hands, her eyes widened and her small index finger pointed towards us, excitedly.

“I _ knew it!” _

“Damn, I owe her twenty bucks,” Finnick snickered.

“Really?” Peeta asked incredulously and Finnick shrugged his shoulders.

“I really thought you would’ve told us, dude.”

“Yeah, I’m actually a little hurt,” Gale teased, placing a hand on his heart.

I rolled my eyes, leaning up to give Peeta another peck on the cheek, which made him blush fiercely and Madge squeal. 

“This is the best.”

“Countdown is about to start!”

The rowdy cheers in the bar faded to background noise as I looked up at Peeta. He bowed willingly when I pulled on his shirt, bringing him closer to me so I could press my fingers into his hair.

When the clock struck midnight, he was my kiss. 

+++

The lightning in my room wasn’t ideal--too harsh at its fullest and nearly pitch black in its lack of presence. We opted for the later, ignoring the lights as we stumbled into the bedroom and used the glow of the moon shining through my window to guide us.

The others were still at Sae’s when Peeta and I made our hasty exit and I had a feeling even if my roommates came home, they knew better than to interrupt what was going on behind my closed bedroom door. 

Peeta’s knees bowed when their backs touched the bed and he lowered himself onto it tentatively, hands never leaving my body as I climbed to lay on top of him.

Our lips pressed together as my hips lowered to his, and when he moaned, I inhaled it. Months of pent up tension and unfulfilled desire coursed through our veins as we kissed; hips slowly rocking against each other, lips refusing to break.

I sighed, scratching the back of his neck where small curls teased his nape. The shutter that ran through his body jolted mine too.

“Good?” I asked, breathless. In the moonlight, I saw his long lashes flutter with wonder.

“So good,” he promised.

He was hard beneath me. I felt his erection pinned between the leg of his jeans and my thigh. My skin burned with the contact and I fought the urge to free him, to sink him down on me immediately and claim what I’d been desiring for so long.

There would be time to rush later. Not tonight.

We kissed until the majority of our clothes had been removed and our bodies were humming, pumping with adrenaline and so filled with need that we were rubbing up against each other like the day after finals. Only this time, it was going somewhere. We weren’t going to be interrupted.

“I thought about this so much,” I whispered into the exposed skin of his neck. “Every night you were gone. Wishing you were with me instead.” 

“Katniss.” He rasped my name, voice so hoarse it was almost unrecognizable. “Me too.”

“You did?” 

_ "Christ, _ yes.”

“Ugh, Peeta.” I ground my hips down on his, clit throbbing, desperate for attention beneath the thin barrier of my underwear. “Please.”

I was whining, but I couldn’t care. I was out of my mind, desperate with need for him to just fill me already. I couldn’t wait any longer. If it took begging, I was not too prideful. 

He pulled back a little bit, dodging my responsive kiss to press our foreheads together.

“It’s been a while,” he admitted, low voice laced with chagrin. “I don’t think that this is going to...take very long for me.”

“It’s okay,” I promised, stroking his hair. “That’s what next time is for.”

He smiled and when I pressed a hand to his cheek, it was hot from his admission.

“And the next time, and the next time,” I breathed.

His lips found mine again greedily, and I heard the moan that started from down in his stomach erupt when I teased the shell of his ear with my fingers.

“I want to do something for you, first,” he insisted. “Will you allow it?”

I smiled, rolling off of him to fall down onto the mattress with my back resting flush against the sheets. 

“I’ll allow it.”

He took me in with a deep inhale through his nostrils before dipping down, resting his massive body on top of mine. The weight of him, bliss.

His lips created a smooth trail down my body. 

_ One kiss, _ right into the crook of my neck. The prickly stubble of his beard tickled the sensitive skin, immediately drawing my shoulder up in reaction and I felt him smile against me. 

“Ticklish,” I gasped. 

_ Two kisses, _and he’s moved down to my collar bone, tongue darting out to taste my skin.

_ Three kisses down, _I’m moaning, because his lips were wrapped around my nipple. My back bowed and his hand snaked beneath it, holding me as his fingertips glided over my smooth skin. 

He released the hardened tip and I shuddered as his breath fanned across it, causing it to tighten. 

_ Four kiss, five kiss, six kiss... _right down the center of my belly, with teasing swirls around my navel as he helped me slide my underwear down my legs. Discarded off to the side, no longer necessary.

_ Seven kisses _and his face is pressed right where I wanted him. 

I gasped at the feel of his hot breath intimately caressing between my legs. His fingers deftly spread my thighs and when he traced the skin there, my flesh broke out in goosebumps. The tip of his nose bumped my swollen clit, and my hands tightened around the fabric of the fitted sheet below me. It snapped off the edge of the bed, bunching around me, but I was too lost to care. 

“Peeta,” I whispered. I don’t know who it was for. No one else was in the apartment to overhear us, but it felt like if I said his name in any higher volume the moment might shatter. 

“You’re so _ wet.” _His voice was dazed with wonderment. Even in the darkness, his bright eyes glowed.

An unrecognizable sound ripped its way through my throat.

“I know.” I was talking through gritted teeth. “Can’t help it…”

“I thought...well, I just figured...I would need to...get you there--” he stammered, voice gruff, on the edge of breaking. 

I shook my head. “Peeta. All I have to do is think about you, and I’m wet.”

His entire body shuddered.

“Jesus, Katniss.” He exhaled through his nose. “...Can I?”

_ “Do it.” _

He ran his tongue up my center in a long, smooth lick and my head fell back against the pillow.

I knew I was moaning, but all I could hear was white noise. My thighs quivered, locked around his neck. My hands pulled at his hair. His eyes locked with mine as he found my clit and rolled the tip of his tongue in slow circles around it. 

Peeta learned my cues and followed them quickly. I liked indirect contact, against the sides and on the hood. He noticed the way I squirmed uncomfortably when he tried to flick it directly and adjusted his pressure until my body was weightless and eyes had rolled to the back of my head.

“Peeta…!”

I felt the bed rocking as he ground his hips into the mattress, seeking some relief for himself. The real relief would come soon enough for the both of us. When we finally came together and had sex. My body shook in anticipation of it and I felt the familiar ball of intense heat pooling in my lower belly.

_ “Peeta.” _The only word I could seem to form was his name. He whimpered on hearing the gaspy plea and as his efforts redoubled, my hips bucked off of the bed.

When I orgasmed, it was so hard that nothing came out. My mouth opened wide but the breath caught in my chest and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My body was strung tight like a bow, every muscle taut with the release. 

A short gasp escaped me as I finally exhaled and Peeta kissed the insides of my thighs as I caught my breath before sliding up to steady himself over the top of me.

“You’re incredible,” he panted. “I can’t believe that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” I repeated, hot and ready and desperate for more as arousal began to build again. “Get the condom, Peeta.” 

He did, returning just a moment later and rolling it over himself with unsteady hands. When he hovered above me again, I was helpless with how much I wanted him to press into me. 

He dipped his head, letting it hang between taut shoulder blades with his hips lifted up above mine.

I gasped when I felt the pad of his finger smooth over my entrance lightly in a gentle caress. When he pushed into me, we moaned in unison and my toes curled at the pleasure of being filled so perfectly.

He moved slowly, not forcing himself but easing in and allowing me to adjust to his thickness. I spread my legs wider, welcoming him into me, and wrapped my ankles around his back, right above his butt, in encouragement.

“Ugh, you’re so big,” I couldn’t help but comment. 

“Do you...need me to stop…?” The question was pained, asked through clenched teeth.

“Don’t stop,” I whispered, harshly. “God, don’t stop.” 

“You’re so tight,” he exhaled and I felt his entire body shake. His arms were unsteady above me, face tight, thick muscles straining. 

“One second,” he begged when I moved my hips. 

“Peeta,” I whispered, rubbing his shoulders, down the length of his arms. It seemed to relax him. He opened his eyes, boring into mine. “You’re trembling.”

“Sorry,” he said back, gently.

I smiled, pulling him closer to kiss.

I wasn’t going to be the girl who professed her love to a boy midway through sex. It was corny, the kind of thing that only happened in romantic comedies, and I didn’t want to pressure him into saying something he didn’t mean. Especially during such an intense moment, where neither of us were thinking straight.

But, I did.

I was fairly confident that I did.

_ I loved him. _

I kissed him with enough emotion to convey my feelings. _ Love. _I wouldn’t say it, but I would let him feel it. 

He started a slow thrust of his hips, barely moving out of me but instead a rhythmic gyrate that sent him deeper with each rotation. I pinned him against me, clasping his back like a lifeline. His skin was hot, probably flushed, and when my nails dug into him his hips flexed deeper on instinct.

“You feel so good, Katniss,” he told me, body molded to mine. I reached around to stroke his cheeks, pull on his facial hair a little.

“You too.” My eyes fell closed with his thrusts. With each one, his body rubbed against mine and I felt his pelvis on my clit. It sent small spasms through me, edging me closer too. After just a few minutes, I felt the increased pressure building. “You’ll make me come.”

“I want you to,” he begged, movements growing a touch more rapid. “I want you to come.”

“I will.” Heat pooled in the pit of my stomach and I felt my heart rate increasing. “Peeta, I’m--”

My words cut off into nothing and my entire body shook as orgasm overtook me. I felt myself constrict around him, walls tightening and milking his cock as he moved with less rhythm. His mouth was open, eyes closed, hands balling at the sheets between my body. I felt his cock twitch, felt his body shake and kissed his neck as he released a pained groan as he came.

For a minute, we stayed there; locked within each other with him holding himself above me and head tucked into my neck.

When he rolled over, he took me with him so that he was still inside of me but none of his weight would bare down on me. I stroked his hair lazily, breast pressed against his chest and lips peppering him with gentle kisses until both of us could breathe again.

“I should go...clean up,” he said, and I nodded sleepily, rolling off of him to allow him to go into the bathroom. 

When he returned, he was already back in a shirt and his boxers. I forced myself to roll out of bed after him and do the less romantic stuff that came after sex, but was still necessary. I crawled back in wearing just a pair of underwear and curled up against him, feeling warm and safe under his thick arm. 

“Peeta?”

“Yes?” he asked.

“Stay with me?”

I felt his head twist against the pillow to regard me. When I looked up, his large eyes studied mine and slowly his lips turned up into a shy smile.

“Okay.” 

I hitched a leg in between his, resting my cheek against his chest. The material of his shirt was smooth beneath my fingers as I teased it and he stroked my hair, lazily. 

“Happy New Year,” he whispered absently after a couple moments of silence. When I laughed against him, he tightened his hold on me. 

He was right, though. 

It was the happiest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday! (or Monday, or whatever day it is that you're reading this!) Hope you enjoyed, see you next time.


	16. January 17-19

* * *

_Kiss me and take off your clothes._

-Ariana Grande 

* * *

It was the last weekend of break when we all went upstate to stay at Annie’s cabin. I was pretty excited about it, because in my two years of living in Wisconsin, I’d never been outside of Panem. It would be nice to get out of the city, away from the hustle and bustle of campus, and spend some time relaxing in the tranquility of nature before the insanity of a new semester began. 

“Fair warning: Madge is a morning person,” Gale grumbled as we loaded Peeta’s truck.

It was early, but not _ that _early. Close to eight in the morning. The sun was still rising lazily, casting beautiful streaks of orange and light blue into the sky without the interference of clouds. 

The trip to the national park from Panem was about four and a half hours before factoring in any sort of breaks and the traffic. We were shooting for an arrival time of mid-afternoon. 

Finnick and Annie had a three day head start on us, enjoying a bit of alone time together after spending so much time apart during the fall. 

Annie was a pretty private person, so it wasn’t all that surprising that she wasn’t constantly updating her Instagram with new photos, documenting every moment of their time together the way most people did. Instead, she posted one simple photo set last night. 

A picture of their feet, clad in thick socks with the fireplace crackling in the background. The next of their faces squished together out on a frozen lake with pink noses and broad smiles. The last, a boomerang of Finnick sitting across from her in a diner booth, dropping a sugar cube into his coffee. The caption: _ My joy _written below. 

Madge waved Gale off with a mitted hand, the other clasping her thermos. She looked like she lived in the Arctic, bundled in a big, puffy coat and thick blanket scarf wrapped twice around her neck. Between it and her hat, her face was hardly visible at all.

“Honey, spring semester starts next week, you better get used to it,” she reminded him unapologetically. “By now, shouldn’t you be a permanent morning person, too? Practice usually starts at five, doesn’t it?”

“Five-thirty,” he corrected, voice so grumpy I had to turn in my seat to hide my smile. “And it wouldn’t matter if it started at three am. I’ll never be a morning person.” 

“You can sleep in the car,” she cooed, wrapping a dainty finger around a piece of his long hair as she passed by to stick her things in the bed of the pickup. “Did you get Peter?” 

“He’s already in the truck.”

Madge’s petite cat laid sprawled out in his crate, curled into a ball and sleeping despite the noise--the calmest cat I’d ever seen. I thought back to Prim’s mangy cat that she’d saved the summer she worked at the animal shelter. _ Buttercup. _A name too cute for the monster that animal was. He growled and hissed if you even looked at him wrong, let alone tried to stuff him into a crate.

After making sure all our extra cargo in the bed of the truck was secure, Peeta climbed into the front seat and rubbed his hands together furiously. When he pressed them against the heat vents, he sighed with relief at the warmth that caressed his skin. 

“Just have to get some gas and we’ll be on our way,” he announced. 

We chased the rising sun as we sped down the empty highway. Gale fell asleep not an hour into the trip, with his hoodie pulled up over his head leaving just his nose and mouth exposed. 

He must’ve been a heavy sleeper, because Madge had hardly taken a breath since we got into the car. He laid out on her lap, with one arm thrown around her middle and she stroked his back soothingly as we drove.

“Have you ever gone snow-shoeing, Kat?” 

Just in middle school gym class for one unit. That was mostly just walking around the building, wading through the snow with rackets attached to the bottom of our shoes. 

“Not really.”

“It’s a blast. I think we’re going to try and hit one of the trails tomorrow afternoon. I’m excited to see what the park looks like in the winter. I wonder if it freezes over enough to go ice fishing. Ha, I remember this one time--”

Peeta and I exchanged a knowing look as Madge continued to fill the silence from the backseat. When our eyes met, both of our lips immediately turned up in smiles and I had to look out the window to keep from laughing.

His fingertips brushed my arm and when I dared to meet his gaze again, he was nodding towards the thermos between us.

“I made you some hot chocolate.”

My eyebrows lifted in surprise as I regarded him and then the cup.

“And you’re just telling me now?” 

“It’s still hot,” he chuckled, and upon inspecting it I found he was right. Steam brushed my face as I opened the lid and breathed in its heavenly scent. 

“That was nice of you. Thank you.” 

“I know you don’t like coffee, and any place we stop is only going to have the powder that comes in a baggie.”

“The horror,” I teased, lifting the mug to my lips. “I forget that you’re a spoiled rich boy who had european chocolate at his disposal growing up.”

“Whoa, ouch.” 

I let out a satisfied groan as the first sip hit my tongue. Okay, I’d survived off of SwissMiss for twenty-one years just fine, but _ damn. _There was no denying that the concoction Peeta had made for me was something special.

“Nevermind, I eat my words.”

“What was that?” he teased, cupping a hand over his ear.

“I’ll never drink SwissMiss again.”

Peeta laughed and when I laid my palm face up in the center console, he didn’t hesitate to link his fingers through mine. 

* * *

When Annie first invited us to her cabin, I wondered how it would possibly fit us all comfortably. I’d envisioned a bedroom with two sets of bunk beds to be shared between the four of us girls and was already plotting a way for Peeta and I to sneak off for some alone time. 

The place we pulled up in front of could hardly be considered _ quaint. _The cabin was two stories, with an open floor plan that effortlessly weaved from one room to another. The decor was rustic with lots of wood and warm colors, and there was a sun room off the dining room that was entirely surrounded by windows, overlooking the frozen lake. 

“I’ll show you to your rooms,” Annie said, beckoning us to follow after her up the staircase. 

The hallway split off on either side of the stairs, doors lining the wall no matter which way you turned. 

“There’s one spare bedroom that anyone is welcome to,” Annie said, opening the door square in the center of the hallway to reveal a guest room with three beds inside. “I didn’t want to assume anything, so it’s here to use. Otherwise there’s three free rooms. It doesn’t matter who goes where, but Finnick and I are in the furthest room left.”

Delly and Thresh claimed the room next to theirs, dropping their bags inside before bounding back down the stairs to check out the game room. Madge and Gale took the corner room on the opposite end of the hallway. Then, it was just Peeta and I left standing alone.

I hadn’t expected sharing a bedroom to be an option, so we hadn’t talked about it. Despite having had sex, I knew that Peeta never had a girlfriend before. The ball was entirely in his court on the decision and I tried not to pressure him as I straddled the space between the spare room and what would be ours if he wanted.

“Where do...I mean, do you want to…?” he asked tentatively, shifting back and forth on his feet. 

“Do you?” 

“Yes.”

I could see palpable relief in his expression when I smiled, nodding in agreement.

“Me too.” 

The room followed the same pattern of decor the rest of the cabin did. There was a wooden rocking chair tucked neatly in the corner by a closet and sweet sayings like _ home is where the heart is _displayed in frames on the wall and dresser top. 

Peeta walked ahead of me, surveying the space appreciatively as he placed our bags down on top of the wood chest at the foot of the bed. 

Speaking of the bed, it was plenty big enough for the both of us to fit on comfortably. My mind was racing now that it was in the realm of possibility, and I felt electric heat course through me as I drifted into fantasies of curling up around him and sleeping under his protective embrace.

This weekend was getting more interesting by the moment. 

I shut the door behind us and turned the lock, giving Peeta a wicked smile over my shoulder as he looked at me, oblivious to the direction my mind was going.

“What’re you--” His words broke off with a surprised grunt as I jumped into his arms without warning. He caught me by the backs of my thighs as they wrapped around his middle and I knotted my hands behind his neck, planting a kiss on his waiting lips.

“Let’s have fun,” I said, biting down on my lip. 

“What did you have in mind?” His voice was husky and I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed heavily. I leaned in to give him a quick peck, pulling back when he leaned in for more, and motioned over to the bed.

“Bring me over there and I’ll show you.” 

He laughed, the sound light as he walked across the room with me in his arms, easily. I pushed him flat back against the mattress when he sat, pinning my weight down on top of him. I wasn’t nearly strong enough to actually hold him down, but Peeta was a good sport and played along, staring up at me with a mixture of lust and amazement in his expression.

“Got you,” I whispered.

“Now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?” he asked, teasing. I rotated my hips above his, smiling at his sharp inhale. 

“You’ll see.”

There wasn’t much time before the others would come looking for us. Everyone was hungry and it was approaching dinner time, but I figured we could steal a few minutes to ourselves while they explored the house.

The drive here had been its own exquisite form of foreplay. I’d been captivated by Peeta’s arms and the way they moved as he turned and gripped the steering wheel. Felt the jolt of arousal shoot through me from just the simple brush of his thumb on my knee. Forced myself to be a good friend and listen to what Madge was saying instead of focusing on the flush of heat creeping its way up Peeta’s neck, leaving his skin blotchy. 

It didn’t matter that we were in a house full of people, Peeta and I were finally alone. If someone came and knocked on the door we could tell them to go away, no excuses necessary. We had a room that was more than a thin wall apart from everyone else and an entire floor currently free of other people. Honestly, it would just be irresponsible to not take advantage of such an opportunity. 

“Wanna play?” I asked, swirling my fingernail in a slow circle over his chest. 

“Yeah, I want to play,” he repeated back, voice thick and verging on desperation. There was power in knowing I’d been the one to put it there. The one to make this boy, who was as even keeled as they come, needy with arousal. Pupils fat and dilated. Tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

He flipped us over in an easy enough maneuver, spreading his thighs to encase mine between them, arms hovering on either side of my shoulders. 

I loved how it felt to have him on top of me. Had it been someone else, the position might’ve been intimidating. He was so _ big. _ So powerful. I was helpless beneath his weight. But with Peeta, there was no fear there, only the pulsing desire for more.

“You make me crazy, Katniss,” he admitted across my collarbone as our fingers worked in tandem to snap open the button of my jeans. He slid the zipper down with more expertise than in the past and I lifted my hips to help him move them down to the floor. 

“Tell me,” I demanded.

“The whole way here all I could think about was you.”

My hands gripped the headboard above me and I pulled myself up further, giving him more room to work as my head fell down between the lofty set of pillows. 

“What was I doing?”

“Spreading your legs.”

I did as he commanded. 

Peeta drank in the sight of me laying in front of him, completely spread, and stuttered out a breath. He slid further down between me, arms hooking around my thighs to hold them open as his lips kissed my hipbone.

“And what were you doing?” 

I gasped, unable to hold the sound in when his tongue trailed languidly up my folds. 

I’d only been with a couple of guys before. First, my high school boyfriend, who barely knew how to put on a condom. Admittedly, we were both young and inexperienced. The sex felt more obligatory than passionate. Like a right of passage we were supposed to be partaking in despite the discomfort and awkwardness of the whole thing. 

I hadn’t dated seriously since coming to Panem. The few guys I hooked up with were usually quick and lustful affairs. Maybe, if I was lucky, I got a free dinner out of it. Half of the time, though, we didn’t even bother to remove our clothes. Just a hasty, meaningless fuck to take the stressful edge off and sedate our more basic human needs.

With Peeta, there was a clear difference. 

He was the first man who seemed to genuinely enjoy going down on me. We took our time with each other in a way that made it painfully evident there was more involved than just the physical side of our attraction. 

His lips wrapped around my clit, sucking, and I cried out, legs holding his head prisoner, involuntarily. 

“Katniss,” he said against my skin. I was convulsing. He made a slow pass over the sensitive spot and I actually mewled. “You have to be quiet. We don’t want them to hear.”

“I don’t care,” I moaned, nearing agony. “Please, Peeta. _ Please.” _

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled. I felt myself clench around him as two of his thick fingers teased my entrance before slipping inside. He pumped them in and out of me slowly, mimicking the movements of his cock, _ mother fucking curling them _ when my hips began to jerk. 

All the while, his tongue flicked against my clit.

“H-holy..._ holy--” _

He moaned into my skin, pleased by the reaction and I felt the tell tale sign of inevitable climax.

I chanted his name like the lyrics to a song and pulled at his hair so hard I’m surprised it stayed in his head. When I came, I buried my head into one of the large pillows, letting it muffle the sound as wave after wave of euphoria crashed down on me.

He continued working me through the high, hand and mouth working in unison to carry me through my orgasm and into the next. 

I didn’t even know that was possible.

I was flushed and sweaty, panting and entirely void of life by the time I came down from my second high. Peeta kissed the inside of my thigh sweetly, licking me off of his lips before he helped to ease my legs closed.

“Is that what you had in mind?” he asked, cheekily. I hummed gently, curling into his body as he laid down beside me, eyes heavy with bliss.

“Something like that.”

My middle and index finger walked themselves down his side, and I smiled to myself when he jerked under their tickling touch. As I reached the waistband of his jeans, I felt his body shutter, more than ready for me to return the favor.

His thick hand covered mine gently and I looked up at him with a mixture of curiosity and disappointment. 

“They’re probably wondering where we went,” he explained, voice still hoarse. “We should head downstairs and meet up with everyone.” 

“But what about you?” I inquired, his desire clearly outlined in his jeans. 

“Later,” he promised. “We have all weekend.”

I mean, that was true. 

He was also right that the others had noticed our disappearance. By the time we reconnected with them downstairs, they were throwing sideways glances and making sly comments about our delay.

“We were beginning to wonder what had happened to you two,” Delly said, crossing her legs over one another neatly.

“Though we had a good idea,” Gale muttered, cracking a grin when Madge elbowed him in the side.

Peeta’s face glowed red and I rolled my eyes, ignoring their commentary. I took Peeta’s hand in mine, pulling him further into the kitchen. 

“What’s for dinner?”

_ “Meat,” _ Finnick said in his deepest, caveman-esque voice. Thresh held up grilling utensils beside him proudly. 

“Or, a veggie burger, for Annie,” he added to which she smiled gratefully.

We bundled up and grabbed a few of the wool blankets from the living room before heading outside. There was a fire pit surrounded by a circle of chairs and as the flames began to grow it crackled and sparked, glowing the night as the sun set. 

The atmosphere was cozy, somehow managing to remain warm even in the cold winter air. The further the sun sloped though, the closer I found myself inching to Peeta, his furnace of a body providing an extra layer of warmth. 

“Ever been camping, Katniss?” Finnick asked as he folded meals of meat, vegetables and potatoes into aluminum foil to let it roast over the flames. 

“A few times, when I was a kid.” 

“Yeah, I used to go then, too. We always cooked this way.”

The meals turned out delicious and we played games and laughed around the fire as we ate. After dinner, we remained for a while longer. I crawled into Peeta’s lap with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, shamelessly resting my head into his chest as everyone started to roast marshmallows.

His nimble fingers glided along my back in smooth, soothing strokes, soft enough to make my eyelids feel heavy and body sag further against his, completely comforted. I inhaled his scent against my nose, wrapping an arm around his middle protectively as my eyes finally gave in and shut.

“Did Katniss fall asleep?” I heard Delly ask. 

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been out for, but I was fine to lay still and pretend that I still was.

“I think so,” Peeta said quietly, not ceasing his movements along my skin.

“I can’t believe I wasn’t there on New Years,” she muttered and I could practically hear the pout in her voice. “You go away for three weeks and miss all of the excitement.” 

“It was pretty epic,” Madge agreed quietly, from the other side of the fire. “I totally called it. Didn’t I, Gale?”

“She did.”

“Well, I mean, no offense but you guys couldn’t have been more obvious,” Delly chuckled. “It was less a question of _ if _ and more of a _ when.” _

I felt the rumble of Peeta’s answering laughter and stirred against him. 

“We should all try to get some rest, probably,” Annie said, her words trailing off with a yawn. “It’s better to do the trails in the morning if you want to see more wildlife. We should be up and getting ready by eight.”

Gale groaned and in the distance, Madge chuckled.

I tightened my hold around Peeta as I jostled in his arms. It was entirely dark out as my eyes opened, the last of the fires light dying down to ashes. 

When I mumbled to Peeta that I could walk, he gave me a reassuring squeeze and held me closer to his chest. I was weightless in his arms as he carried me back into the house, eyes bleary with slow blinks as I took in our surroundings up the stairs to the bedroom.

“What time is it?” I asked, groggily.

“Late,” he answered, setting me down on the bed. “Almost two.”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” I stretched out like a lazy cat, shimmying out of my pants but keeping Peeta’s thick sweatshirt on as I climbed beneath the covers. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” he said, turning the light off and encasing us back into darkness. 

I heard the zipper of his jeans open and then the rustle of them moving down his legs. A few moments later, he was in the bed beside me.

“Annie wants us up by eight for snowshoeing,” he whispered against my neck. 

“Mm’kay.” My response made him chuckle before I felt the comfort of his arm around my body. 

“Goodnight, Katniss.”

I curled in closer and exhaled with content.

“Goodnight, Peeta.” 

* * *

It was early enough that the sun was barely up when my eyes reopened. I stared out the window, where the blinds were cracked, and listened to the silence of the woods and the soft snores coming from Peeta as he lay next to me.

I rolled over onto my side, studying him in the dim light. His long eyelashes danced in his sleep, lips slightly parted, cheek pressed into the pillow. He looked so adorably boyish as he dreamed, even with his beard. So calm and peaceful. The truly weird thing was that lying there next to him felt so natural. Like we’d always just done it. Like I knew him for much longer than just a few months. 

I leaned in and kissed his forehead, watching the way his eyebrows pinched together before relaxing again and he breathed out another quiet snore.

I rolled out of bed, tiptoeing out the door and down the hallway to the bathroom. Below me, on the first floor, I heard soft movement only detectable because of how silent the house was. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. Just after six in the morning, and I felt wide awake.

I crept downstairs to find out who the source of the noise was and halted in surprise when I saw Finnick, sitting alone at the end of the table with only the impending sunrise through the window for light. A bowl of cereal sat half finished in front of him. He didn’t look half as surprised to see me as I felt seeing him, slowly raising his mug of coffee up to meet his lips. 

“I--sorry,” I stammered. “I just heard a noise. I wasn’t sure who was awake.”

“It’s fine. There’s a pot of coffee in the kitchen,” he offered, motioning for me to sit. In all honesty, it was the last thing I wanted to do. Finnick and I might’ve gotten along fine in a group, but I still felt uneasy around him one-on-one since our last solo encounter.

“Thanks,” I started, not meeting his gaze. “But I don’t drink it.”

“Because of the caffeine?”

“Because of the taste,” I corrected, making him snort.

“Tea, then. Annie keeps a bunch of different bags in the top drawer, furthest to the right.”

“Okay…” I was out of reasons to decline and slowly moved into the kitchen. “Thanks.”

When I returned, his head was pressed against his hands, thick bronze hair poking through the slits of his fingers and eyes too troubled for so early in the morning on a school break. 

“You’re up early,” I chanced, waiting for the kettle to finish boiling. “Still on practice time?”

“Sort of. It’s mostly from my medication.” He shrugged his shoulders with a rueful smile. “Gives me insomnia. One of the many perks of cancer.” 

Shit. I’d honestly forgotten that Finnick had cancer just a few short years ago. It was difficult to believe now. Looking at him he appeared so healthy, all solid muscles and tanned skin. He was a power house, the way he could throw a football down the length of the field. No wonder though, that Annie looked so concerned when he got sacked. It probably made her a nervous wreck. 

“That sucks.” So did my reply, but it was all I could force out, lamely. 

“Yeah,” Finnick nodded slowly with agreement, nursing his coffee. “Sorry. I’m not usually this self-deprecating.” 

“You know, that stuff probably doesn’t help much. With the sleep, I mean.” 

That got a smirk out of him and he laughed lightly.

“Touché, Everdeen. So, why are you up?”

“I never sleep well outside of my own bed.”

“That didn’t seem to stop you last night outside,” he quipped. Clearly, he was busting on me, but it was working and I felt my cheeks heat.

“Long drive.”

“Yeah, but you guys made good timing. You hungry? I can’t cook fancy like Peeta can, but there’s cereal in the pantry.”

He motioned to the array of choices behind him and passed the milk over to me. 

“I used to love this as a kid,” I chuckled, shaking the box of _ Fruity Pebbles _ out into my bowl. “I don’t think I’ve had it since I was like, twelve.”

“You’re missing out,” Finnick teased. “They’re still my favorite. I always keep them around the apartment.”

“Well, look at that.”

“What?”

“I thought the only thing we had in common was affection for Peeta. Turns out we can add fruity pebbles to the list, too.”

“Jury’s still out on that first one,” he said, looking me over with skeptical sea green eyes that lit with wicked amusement at my scowl. “I’m just fucking with you, Katniss.”

“You’re a pain in the ass.”

“Look, I know I misjudged you. That you’re really into him. Anyone paying attention can see how much you care about him,” he said, gently and I felt my defenses lower.

“I do,” I mumbled, shifting my spoon around the bowl in slow circles. The last month and a half spent with Peeta, rooming with Madge and Annie, had been the best of my time in Panem. I hated to think about losing it. This small group I had stumbled into was so genuine and _ good _but I needed to mend things once and for all with Finnick in order to feel entirely secure.

“I was your first fan, remember?” he joked, making me laugh lightly. 

“Are you, again?”

His smile was as genuine as it was beautiful. “Yeah, I am. No hard feelings?” 

“No hard feelings.”

“Great,” he sighed, leaning back into his chair. He was fidgeting, leg bouncing uncontrollably and hand tapping against the wooden chair next to him.

“I think you’ve had enough coffee,” I teased and immediately he stilled with a look of chagrin.

“Sorry. Just anxious. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Oh.” I didn’t want to pry, but I also wanted him to feel comfortable to continue talking if he wanted. So I waited with a look of invitation until finally Finnick sighed again and leaned forward against the table.

“Have you ever had to tell someone you loved big news?” At my confusion, he expanded. “I just...don’t know how to get the words out, you know?”

“Can I ask what the news is…?” 

He shook his head slowly.

“No, sorry. I want to tell Annie first.” He looked like he was going to throw up and my stomach knotted as one hundred bad possibilities ran through my mind.

“Finnick, is this news bad or good? Because if it’s bad, this might not be…” 

“--It’s good,” he said with confidence, and then it faltered. He rubbed a hand through his hair. “I think. Yeah, good. Probably.”

“I think you need to talk with Annie before you give yourself an ulcer,” I said and he laughed, a low sound that pushed air up through his chest. 

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Just say what’s on your mind. Or heart.” 

“Thanks. Sorry, I’m a goddamn basket case this morning. Wasn’t planning on saying anything. I’ve just been keeping it in and…”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” I promised. “Trust me, I understand the need to talk things out sometimes. But I think, whatever it is, you’ve gotten it off your chest.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks.”

“No problem. I better get back before Peeta wakes up and wonders where I am.”

“Yeah, me too. See you in a bit.”

I rinsed out my bowl and put it into the dishwasher before retreating upstairs to Peeta and my bedroom. It wouldn’t be long before we had to be up and getting ready for snowshoeing. 

Peeta’s eyes fluttered open as I slipped back under the blankets, and he smiled lazily at me with a half-lidded expression. 

“Good morning,” I whispered. 

“Morning.” 

I couldn’t help thinking about how nice it would be if all my days began by memorizing Peeta's sleepy face.

+++

Snowshoeing was more difficult than it looked. 

As we trudged down the ribboned off path, it was an awkward maneuver through the thick snow. Ten minutes in and my thighs were burning far worse than they did in any aerobics class back on campus. 

I stepped on top of my other snowshoe, losing my balance but before I could fall, Peeta caught my arm and helped to right me back up. 

“Thanks,” I exhaled, a rush of visible breath escaping me.

Peeta’s cheeks and the tip of his nose were rosy red from the chill. It made his eyes sparkle more prominently, deep pools of blue that stood out in contrast to his pale skin.

The paths were gorgeous. The sun was out, peeking brightly between thick thatches of trees and birds sang a quiet song in the distance. It was a peaceful calm, with just the sounds of snow crunching beneath our feet, the delicate sounds of nature, and Madge’s voice talking at the front of the path.

“You’re going to scare everything off,” Thresh warned her.

“Sorry!” she chirped. 

A mockingbird landed in one of the trees nearby, low enough in the branches for me to see. I used to love pointing them out while hunting with Dad. As I got older, and we would split up to maximize our efficiency, we used them as a way to communicate with one another for fun, sending familiar tunes back and forth throughout the forest while we waited for prey.

I stilled and Peeta stopped next to me, focusing on the bird when he saw what I was staring at.

“Pretty,” he commented. 

“It’s a Mockingjay,” I told him before whistling a soft tune. Moments later, it copied the melody, and Peeta’s smile broadened. When he tried, the bird took flight, carrying his song through the air to another part of the forest. 

We stopped at the edge of the frozen lake to feed some of the birds with seed Annie brought and admire the views. Everything felt so much different out here than back in Panem. Like I could breathe.

“You guys ready?” Gale asked after a while, shifting on his feet. “I’m freezing my balls off.” 

We were all frozen to the bone and ready to be back at the cabin warming up by the time it was in our sights. A collective sigh of relief was breathed as we shuffled inside, stripping away the wet layers and basking in the heat. 

“Hot tub, anyone?” Delly asked--an idea that was unanimously backed up. 

“Sweet Jesus, yes,” Madge sighed, following her up the stairs to change. 

I went up too, surprised that Peeta didn’t immediately follow. When I came back down, he was in the kitchen, cleaning up dishes from breakfast. 

He caught sight of me through his peripheral, turning to look and then did a quick double take, face flushing as I stood in only my bikini.

“Hey,” he greeted, unable to look away.

“We can do that later,” I said about the dishes. It wasn’t just his job to clean up after everyone. “Go get changed.”

“I don’t mind doing then,” he promised, making me frown. “It’s my night to make dinner. I figured I would get it going before everyone gets too hungry.”

“You’re not going to come in even for a little while?” I asked, pulling myself to sit up on the counter next to him. 

He looked uncomfortable under my scrutiny, which only puzzled me more. Eyes shifted and he gave a noncommittal shrug as he scrubbed at a plate with great intensity.

“Um, maybe later.”

Finnick walked into the kitchen, oblivious to our conversation as he lingered in the doorway. 

He was the definition of _ Greek God _standing there in nothing but a pair of swim trunks that still managed to show off a fair amount of leg. His smile broadened when he noticed my stare, and he struck a ridiculous pose.

“Distracted, Kat?” 

“In your dreams, Odair.”

He chuckled, turning his attention to Peeta next to me.

“Peet, let’s go,” he encouraged, motioning outside the window to where Gale and Thresh were already working on pulling the cover off of the hot tub. “Get changed.”

“I...I’m just…” My confusion grew as Peeta stammered, cheeks growing red. Since when was he nervous in front of Finnick? 

“Gonna start on dinner,” he finished.

“Dinner?” Finnick’s face wrinkled. “It’s four thirty, you old man.”

“It’ll take a while.”

“Oh,_ I _ get it.”

“Get what?” Delly asked as her, Annie and Madge entered.

“Peeta’s being shy in front of his new girlfriend,” Finnick chuckled.

I felt my face sting with the accusation, and Peeta’s pale skin was fiery red, all the way up his hairline and disappearing down the collar of his shirt. I stared down at my lap as the two exchanged a look. 

“No, I’m not. I just don’t feel like it.” I could sense Peeta withdrawing, but the others persisted, ignorantly.

“But you love the hot tub,” Annie chimed in with concern. 

My eyebrows knit as I tried to make sense of what she was saying. I’d forgotten that they came here over the summer last year. Clearly, he hadn’t made such a fuss about going in then.

So, was Finnick right then? It was me? I was the common factor in the equation, but it made no sense. What was there to be shy over? We’d had sex. He’d seen me up close and personal in far less than a bathing suit…

“It’s fine,” I insisted, not wanting to push him. Finally, Finnick seemed to sense the shift in the mood. 

“Alright, let’s leave him alone,” he suggested. “I’m expecting a five star meal, though, Mellark.”

I lingered a minute, waiting until the sliding glass door that led out back shut before turning back to him.

“I can stay and help if you want,” I offered, though I still didn’t one hundred percent understand what had brought on the sudden bout of shyness. 

“No, go get in,” he insisted, looking over his shoulder to where all of our friends were laughing as they eased into the steaming water outside.

“You sure?”

He nodded. “Maybe I’ll come out once I finish prepping everything, okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed, leaning over to kiss his cheek before hopping down from the countertop. I cast one more look at him over my shoulder, still feeling like I was missing something as I went to join everyone outside.

“Catnip, pass me a beer from that cooler?” Gale asked, pulling himself up to sit on the edge of the tub. His swim trunks hung low with the weight of the water, showing off the defined ‘V’ of muscle that disappeared beneath the drawstring, highlighted by a trail of hair that started at his navel.

I handed him the beer before climbing in between Delly and Madge, feeling somewhat left out that everyone’s significant other was in there with them except for mine.

All the half naked men sitting around caused my mind to wander, and I found myself thinking about Peeta’s broad shoulders, exposed and flushing in the heat of the water. I pictured him with one arm languidly wrapped around me, chest exposed just above the water’s line--

It was more difficult to picture than I imagined it should be.

Why was it so hard?

I racked my brain to pull an image from, of a time where I’d seen Peeta bare chested. 

He’d been naked when we had sex the first time...and the second time...but now that I was actively thinking about it, I could only picture the darkness of the bedroom. Needy hands intent on the end goal without a thought to the barrier of night. Beforehand, there hadn’t been much time--or care--for _ exploration. _

And of all the time he’d taken to explore me...I’d never focused on just him.

Holy shit, how was that possible?

I participated minimally in a game of truth or dare, mind far too preoccupied to take it seriously, before the guys bailed to play a game of pool inside. 

Annie glanced around anxiously, her the long ponytail her hair was pulled up in swinging with every movement of her head before the glass door slid closed. She waded in the water closer, until the four of us were huddled together, and bit down on her bottom lip.

“Can I tell you guys a secret?” she asked, before frowning a little. “I know I shouldn’t yet...but I can’t hold it in, I need to talk with someone about it.”

It must’ve been big for Annie to want to share. Of the four of us, she was by far the most reticent. 

“Of course,” Delly promised, and Madge nodded encouragingly.

“Okay...Finnick is going to declare for the NFL draft.”

_ “What!” _ Madge shrieked, sinking further down into the water when Annie immediately _ shushed _ her. 

“I’m not surprised,” Delly said with a confident smile. “He’s extremely talented.”

“This is insane,” Madge said, grabbing Annie’s arm. “When did he tell you?”

“This morning. Before we went snowshoeing,” Annie said with a meek smile. 

“How do you feel about it?” she asked and Annie’s lips tightened as she mulled the question over for a moment.

“It’s a little complicated. We both have big dreams, you know? He doesn’t want it to affect my decisions. I mean, I always pictured myself moving to New York or...I don’t know, California or something after graduation.” 

“You still can,” Delly said.

“Of course,” Annie agreed. “Finnick knows how hard I’ve worked and how much dance means to me. He doesn’t expect me to drop everything and follow him around the country like a groupie. But…”

We waited patiently for a moment, but when the silence extended, Delly prompted her. 

“...But?” 

“But, there’s more to think about now.”

She nodded with an understanding neither Madge or I could match.

“He didn’t _ tell _ me he’s declaring,” Annie said gently. “He asked. He said that if the choice were between me or football...he would choose me.”

“That’s really sweet, Annie.” 

“It is. _ It is. _ But, this is the opportunity of a lifetime for him. What difference would there be if I asked him to give that up? Dance has been a huge part of my life for so long, but now so is Finnick. The most important part.”

“So what will you do?” I asked, and Annie shrugged her petite shoulders.

“We’re going to see where things go after graduation. Career wise, I mean. But long distance or not, we’re not breaking up. I refuse to lose him.” 

“Good, because I already have ideas for bridesmaids dresses,” Madge grinned, extending her arms out for a hug. 

“You dork,” Annie giggled.

“Katniss? You’ve been kind of quiet,” Delly said, eyes suspicious. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I promised, brushing their scrutiny off. “Sorry.”

“Did you and Peeta get into a fight?” Madge asked, hesitantly. “Is that why he was being weird?”

“No,” I frowned. “We’re not fighting. Nothing like that.”

She blinked, but waited for me to elaborate and when my eyes shifted over to the other two, they did the same.

“I just...is it weird that I haven’t seen Peeta naked?”

“Wait, what? You haven’t?” Delly questioned, surprised. When I shook my head she made a face. “I guess I just assumed you two had had sex.”

“We have.”

“But you haven’t…”

“No,” I groaned, burying my head into my hands. “It’s weird, right?”

“Or at the very least boring,” she muttered, making Madge chuckle. “You’ve never seen his dick?”

Dear lord, I never expected to be sitting in a hot tub discussing Peeta Mellark’s dick. Especially when the conversation didn’t even involve him.

I shook my head, too embarrassed to give a verbal response. 

Was I officially the worst person on earth? Because I felt like _ The Worst Person on Earth. _

I mean, how had I not seen his dick yet? Peeta had gotten me off with his hands and mouth, what? three times since we started fooling around? And not once had I returned the favor.

I quickly compiled all of our times together. There was the time on New Years, of course. Then the day I was going to be late for my shift at Sae’s and we had to stop. Then yesterday, when we’d promised to pick things up after dinner but I’d fallen asleep…

“He’s gone down on you thrice and hasn’t asked you to take a dip below his belt _ once?” _Delly exclaimed, losing control of her volume for a moment until we collectively glared at her. “Sorry, but you’ve either found yourself a unicorn or he’s hiding something.”

“Hiding what?” I asked, to which she gave an extremely unhelpful shrug. 

“Okay, there’s no reason to panic,” Madge assured me. “We all know Peeta’s a sweetie. He’s not going to come right out and ask you to give him a blowjob.”

She was right. It was amusing to imagine the request leaving his lips.

“So what do you suggest that I do?”

“Well for starters, maybe kick things off with some ‘_ him time’ _ next time you guys start getting frisky, since you seem to fall into the pattern of interruptions.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, but that came as no surprise. Rarely, it seemed, were her ideas bad. 

Later that night, after Peeta and I retreated to our room, the hot tub conversation still ran through my mind. 

_ Him time. _

I could manage that. 

I glanced over at him, standing in the corner of the room as he gathered up his pajamas and toothbrush. When he caught me staring, we exchanged tight smiles and Peeta scratched the back of his head.

“I’m going to take a shower quickly before bed.”

“Okay,” I replied. “I’ll be here.”

He chuckled somewhat stiffly before disappearing into the bathroom and I used the time to prepare myself mentally for where I would take things when he came back out. 

I didn’t know why I felt so nervous. We’d done all of the hard stuff. I mean, I’d laid there with _ his head between my legs. _ Something about being the one on the giving end made me nervous, though. 

Probably because in the way of experience, I was limited. 

After needlessly worrying for a few minutes, I had just enough time to change and fix my hair a little before Peeta came out from the bathroom. He looked surprised to see me standing there still, and then his eyes trailed lower, down to my clothes. Or, lack thereof. 

The camisole I wore was thin and left little room for imagination. Paired with shorts in the middle of January, it was obvious what I had in mind for tonight. 

I fell back on the bed with a sigh, gazing up at the ceiling as I waited for Peeta to join me. When I felt the mattress dip, I tipped my head and smiled softly at him.

“Can’t believe the weekend is almost over already.”

“I know,” he agreed lowly. “It passed so quickly.”

“Back to the real world Tuesday.”

“How are you feeling about that?” he asked, genuinely curious. “You ready to start another semester?” 

“Is anyone truly ever _ ready?” _ I teased, quirking a brow. It got a smile out of him, and he laughed before giving in with a small shrug.

“True.”

“I’m as ready as I will be, though,” I answered, turning on my side to face him more. “Glad I’ll have you around this time.”

“Me too,” he admitted, shyly. “I’ll have a bit more free time, at least for a few months. Spring training starts in April but until then it’s a much more relaxed schedule.”

“Good, you need a break,” I said, rubbing one of his shoulders. It was a good lead in for where I wanted the evening to go. My focus--and my hands--were on him. Now I just had to keep him from distracting me.

I leaned in and pressed a kiss against his lips. As it deepened, he opened a little and his minty breath fanned across my face. I pushed his damp curls back away from his eyes as we kissed, and leaned forward, forcing him to lean back against the pillows.

My leg hitched over his middle, and Peeta’s hands locked around my hips to help guide me onto his lap. 

As small kisses started to linger into something more passionate, I had to push him back gently twice to keep him from turning us over and effectively taking the attention off of himself. 

When my hands trailed down his chest, and I chanced lifting his shirt, Peeta’s hand clasped around mine to stop me. I leaned back from the kiss, just slightly, and my heavy eyes opened to meet Peeta’s. His expression was closed off and hard to read. Eyes shifting, like he was at war with himself. 

“You okay?” I asked, gently and he gave a jerky nod. 

“Yeah,” he promised, unconvincingly. His hand broke apart from mine, pulling his shirt back down before he tried to lean past me to turn off the light.

“What are you doing?” I asked, not allowing him to. His cheeks held their familiar rosy glow.

“Can we uh, turn off the light?” he asked, rearranging self-consciously below me. I frowned as I studied him.

“But then I won’t be able to see you.” When he didn’t respond, I pressed.“Why would we do that?” 

“I’m trying to do _ you _ a favor,” he tried joking, but his voice lacked humor. Soon after the words left his mouth, his smile fell and I felt my heart tighten inside of my chest, painfully. 

“Peeta, how is that doing me a favor? I want to see you.”

“Maybe...this isn’t a good idea.” He was back tracking, only adding to my confusion. 

I placed my hands on his chest firmly, holding him in place. When he met my gaze, I saw mild panic in his, a cocktail mixed with embarrassment. I hated that I was the one to put that there. Hated everyone before me who’d put it in his mind to think he was anything less than desirable. 

“Talk to me.” 

“I don’t want you to feel like it’s a mistake,” he said quietly.

“The only mistake I’ve made with you was not being brave enough to admit that I wanted you sooner,” I promised him, matching the gentle tone of his voice. “I want every part of you, Peeta. Every part. I love your body.”

His eyes closed as he let out a held breath and when I leaned down to kiss him, he didn’t object.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, me laying on top of him as our mouths glided on each others slowly. His hands held my hips and mine stayed around his neck, scratching it the way I knew he liked.

I chanced trailing my kisses down the base of his jaw, to his neck, taking it as a green light when Peeta didn’t tell me to stop. I hesitated, slowly moving my hands to rest on his shoulders. Then his chest. When they crawled down his stomach to the hem of his shirt, I waited for objection, but it never came.

Peeta’s muscles were stiff as I slipped his shirt up, but he complied, helping to ease the fabric over his head as he watched me with careful eyes. His hands clenched tightly around the discarded shirt, face guarded as I took in his half-naked form for the first time.

And it amazed me that he could ever think I wouldn’t be attracted to him.

Peeta’s skin was smooth and pale all the way down, only interrupted by the constellation of freckles on his shoulders and upper arms. I ran my fingers through the fine hairs that peppered his chest, all the way down to his stomach and watched as goosebumps broke out along his skin and he shivered. 

I glanced up to gauge his reaction, but his eyes were closed. When I pressed my palm to his cheek, they opened in an instant.

“You’re so handsome,” I whispered, and I think in that moment, lying there shirtless with my hands on his body willingly, there was a part of him that had to believe it. He swallowed deeply as I kissed the center of his chest and brushed my fingertips across his nipples. When he stiffened, I tried again, and he moaned softly. 

The further my head dipped, the more tense Peeta’s body became and the more rapid his breath.

“Katniss,” he panted, running a hand through my hair as my lips teased kisses along his stomach. 

He was hard inside of his pants, cock strained against the soft fabric noticeably, and there was no denying that his excitement grew the closer my head got to his lap. 

I’d never given a guy a blowjob before. The closest I’d come was the time I gave one of the Lambda guys a handjob, but he’d spent the whole time trying to coax me into doing more and took so long to come that I was too exhausted to let him reciprocate. 

Not exactly memorable.

Plenty of girls in Theta had experience in that department. They assured me it was no big deal, shared tips and tricks that worked for their partners, and giggled over different experiences they’d had, but nothing was tempting enough to persuade me.

Peeta, sitting on the bed in front of me with flushed cheeks and zero expectations…

_ That _was tempting enough to have me slipping my fingertips into the elastic waistband of his sleep pants. My fingers brushed against the base of his cock outside of his underwear and Peeta’s hips bucked a little involuntarily.

He let me slide his pants down and then I removed my shirt, adding it to the growing pile of clothing on the floor. The breath heaved from his body, making his chest rise and fall as anticipation filled his lungs. 

All because I was in between his legs.

“I’ve never done this before,” I admitted in a whisper, and Peeta stopped breathing all together. “But, I want to try.”

“Try…?” The words caught in his throat as my hand slipped inside his boxer briefs and I pulled his cock free through the opening. 

It came as no surprise to me that he was thick--I’d felt him entering me before and had estimated that he was big--but holding him in my hand was entirely different. His hot skin pulsed with the contact, the tip dark pink and veins beginning to pulse. 

“Shit, Katniss?” He was panting already, eyes fixed on me. 

“It’s my turn to play, don’t you think?” I leaned in, placing a kiss along the junction of his thigh and hip, so close to his balls that my cheek skimmed them and I watched as they retracted closer to him. 

“You don’t have to,” he whispered, sounding pained. It went straight to my core, warming me from the inside out as I met his heavy gaze. 

“No?” I asked, swirling the pad of my thumb around his tip. Peeta’s eyes shut, stomach contracting.

“No,” he whispered, hand clenching the quilt beneath us.

“You don’t want it?” It was obvious he did. I knew I was teasing him, but it was so difficult not to. He was too cute. 

“That’s not it,” he swallowed, face flush and cock hard as stone in my grasp. “I’m just trying to make sure you want it.”

“Peeta,” I said, taking one of his strained hands in mine and squeezing it. “There’s nothing about you that I don’t want.”

I lowered my head and took him in my mouth. Reactively, his thighs clenched and the hand still holding mine tightened. I felt so _ fucking powerful. _

I focused on the head, teasing him where I knew he’d be sensitive with small strokes of my tongue while my hand worked the rest of his length. 

An indistinguishable noise escaped Peeta, almost like a choke, and I grinned to myself as I studied his expression of bewilderment and awe.

“Katniss..._ Katniss.” _

His hands were back to fisting the comforter beneath us, in what I thought was an attempt to keep from guiding my head. His hips bucked a few times, short involuntary motions before he strained to keep them on the bed.

I slowly moved to take more of him into my mouth and Peeta’s eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“Fuck, Katniss. Stop.” 

I raised an eyebrow up at him, sliding him out of my mouth slowly, tongue tracing the underside.

“Stop?” I asked innocently, fanning my breath across him. I stroked languidly as I waited reply, and Peeta exhaled a harsh breath.

“No...ugh, I don’t know. Please...d-don’t..._ don’t stop.” _

“Okay,” I chuckled, giving another teasing swirl of my tongue before licking up and down to the base. His skin was an angry shade of red now, balls contracting with each pass, inching closer to the orgasmic relief I sought to provide him.

His thighs quivered against me, a tremor that worked its way up his spine all the way to the top of his body when he involuntarily shook. 

“I’m, I’m gonna--” he gasped, and it didn’t matter that he couldn’t finish because I already knew what he was about to say. 

_ I’m gonna come. _

With my lips closed around him, I worked in tandem with my hand, up and down his rigid length. Peeta’s hands finally left the blankets to plant themselves on my shoulders.

My name tore from his throat, _ begging _, but for me to stay or go, I couldn’t tell. 

“I can’t...I won’t hold out much longer…”

_ Don’t hold back. _

I hollowed my cheeks, a technique I’d seen before online, and sucked him with passion I didn’t know possible. 

The sounds of pleasure that escaped Peeta as he came were so amazing, it was almost too much. He bit down on his lip before releasing a low groan, mouth open and eyes pinched shut. The skin around his knuckles were white, cheeks red with exertion. 

I swallowed as much as I could, the rest dribbling down my chin and his skin. Peeta shuddered through the rest of his orgasm as I licked him clean.

After, I crawled up to lay beside him, rubbing the top of his head as he kissed my neck gently, holding me close to him.

“T-thank you,” he stuttered, still catching his breath. It felt good, laying there in our naked skin, hand trailing up and down his exposed stomach.

Free from all barriers.

“Are you tired?” I whispered and Peeta cracked an eye open to look at me, curiously.

“Let’s go for a dip,” I said, suggestively, pulling on his arm as I lifted myself up from the bed.

Peeta laughed, but followed my lead, changing into his swim trunks and me back into my bathing suit before we tiptoed down the stairs, not wanting to wake anyone up.

It was late, or incredibly early depending on how you looked at it, as we crept across the cold pavement outside, stifling laughter before melting into the hot tub. 

Gentle flakes of snow fell down, disintegrating as soon as they touched the water. A nice backdrop to the already stunning landscape. 

I bobbed closer to Peeta, sliding into his lap and sinking into his touch as his arms wrapped around my small body. I closed my eyes when he kissed me, entirely content to stay in that moment forever. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! :) Sorry I wasn't able to respond to reviews last chapter, but I wanted to get this one out early for you all. I hope you enjoyed and have a good weekend! 
> 
> Guys, we're quickly approaching the end of this story! I can't believe it. I added 'The Bet' as the first part of the series 'The Panem Nightlock's' so if you want to be notified for future work within this universe, make sure you bookmark to the series, not just this specific work. Thank you!


	17. February 14-18

* * *

_ Here comes the spark before the dark._

-Tegan & Sara

* * *

“Only three more weeks to daylight savings. In case anyone was wondering.” 

Madge chopped up a cocktail of fruits, spinach, and kale into the blender and added some almond milk before closing the lid and mixing it together. A minute later she poured the green concoction into three glasses. 

“Thank god. I could use a little sunlight,” I groaned, accepting the glass. Madge watched eagerly as I took my first sip and her face broke out into a winning smile when I gave an approving thumbs up. 

Gale bought her this fancy blender called a _ Ninja _ for Hanukkah and she’d made a New Years resolution to use it every day during the semester. Somehow over the past month and a half, it had become everyone’s resolution. 

“That means spring is right around the corner,” Annie added after her first sip.

“Maybe,” I snorted. “This _ is _ Wisconsin. Could be several more months before we see grass again.”

“Positivity, Katniss,” Madge scolded, bopping me on the nose with her pointer finger. “Besides, Punxsutawney Phil didn’t see his shadow this year so that’s promising.”

“You’re riding all of your hopes on a fake groundhog.” I snickered to myself, downing the last of the smoothie with one long sip. 

It was crazy to think about spring being just on the horizon. It had almost been a month since winter break ended and we’d all fallen back into the routine of class, work and practices.

The start of this semester was a lot different than the fall. For one thing, there weren't any football games. Peeta and the rest of the team still had conditioning practice and weight room training, but their schedule wasn’t as rigorous as it was during the season. There weren’t any curfews so he was free a lot more often on the weekends, which boded well for me.

Another thing was no _ Theta. _ Over the past two and a half months, I’d found a comfortable flow without the safety net of the sorority in place. Madge, Annie and I mutually decided it was best for me to stay at the apartment instead of moving back into the dorms, and they had quickly become two of my closest friends.

I still saw Delly often, of course. Clove sometimes, too. The rest of the girls were more sporadic, at a yoga class or passing through the cafeteria on campus. 

There were several reasons I’d been nervous about being back at Panem. It was easy to fall into the pattern of being in the company of our close knit group. The safe haven our little bubble provided Peeta and I much needed relief while first opening up about our relationship. 

The same could not be said for everyone on campus.

While I was well aware that our relationship was no one else's business, I also knew that people liked to talk. I didn’t want a repeat of last semester, where our names were on everyone's lips with little knowledge of the facts. If they were going to gossip, anyways, I wanted them to hear it straight from the horse's mouth.

The day after we got home from Annie’s cabin, I decided to post a picture of Peeta and I from the weekend on my Instagram. Taken the night of the bonfire, the two of us cuddled into the same chair, blanket around my shoulders and Peeta’s arm around my waist. The caption was a simple red heart. It was stupid how nauseous I felt over a simple photo, but I couldn’t help it. People were brutally honest behind the anonymity of a screen and username. 

Based on some of the comments, you would have thought Peeta and I had posted nudes, or something. 

_ Barf. _

_ Lol, I guess it was easy for her to get over his waistline when she saw how thick his wallet was. _

_ ….I guess it was easy for him to get over the fact that she used him once he saw how thick her ass was. _

Not everyone was nasty. It was my most liked photo since opening the account, edging out my throwback post of Prim and I as babies. There were plenty of comments written in support and validation of the relationship. I tried my hardest to focus on those instead of the negative ones as I sifted through and deleted them.

Peeta followed suit and posted a picture of us, too. His first photo in almost one year. The space he’d created on his social media was far more safe than mine. Set to private mode, only approved friends and family saw what he chose to share. His mom was of the first to comment, three heart-eye emojis, which Peeta didn’t realize she even knew how to use. Of course Madge, Annie and Delly all left comments, too. 

Though it produced mixed reactions, it felt good to have everything out in the open once and for all before the new semester began.

This week was Valentine’s Day and in celebration, the campus was a sea of pink and red, from the roses on sale in the student center to the specialty drinks that came with heart shaped sprinkles at the café.

I had been confident when graduating high school that I would leave the sickeningly sweet holiday behind, so it surprised me to find that college students basked in the cheesiness just as hard--if not harder--than my high school peers.

Every year in Theta we had _ Secret Admirers _ that were assigned to get each other gifts and Valentines. It was a ridiculous waste of money, along with so many other things we did, but it had also been fun to sneak around and watch the happiness on everyone's face as they received their gifts. 

This year, I woke up to a corny but heartwarming card and chocolate bar pushed under my bedroom door from Madge. 

“Okay, I have to head out,” Annie said after rinsing her cup out in the sink. “I’ll see you girls tonight.”

We waved goodbye as she grabbed her coat and slipped out the door, and then Madge leaned against the counter top with a heavy sigh.

“I guess I better start getting ready for tonight.” 

Every spring, the athletic department held a fundraiser in hopes of talking rich white men into writing bigger checks that were cashed in to support the football teams luxurious expenses for the upcoming year. Of course, it worked. Football was the most well-funded program on campus, and it showed. I tried not to think about all the money that went into a single sports team too hard. It made my head hurt. 

Last year the defensive team was mandated to attend, so naturally this year it was the offense’s turn to show their support. 

Peeta asked if I would go with him to it about a week ago, nervous as always, guilty that he was asking me to spend Valentine’s Day at what was basically a work event. He seemed relieved when I immediately accepted, assuring him that I didn’t need some grand _ Valentine’s Day _gesture just because society claims it was a romantic day. 

I couldn’t help being nervous about the night, though. I’d attended fundraisers and parties with Theta in the past, but not to this level. Going in blind, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I’d learned over the past few months just how much of a priority Panem put the football team as. I had no doubt the night would be opulent. 

Thankfully, Annie and Madge would be there, too, since Finnick and Gale were part of the offensive team. Neither couple was dating the last time the guys attended, so all three of us would all attending as first-timers together. 

“What are you wearing tonight?” I asked Madge. She shrugged, picking Peter up and nuzzling her nose into his soft fur. I could admire her laid back attitude, she was cool under pressure, seeming unfazed by nearly everything. A good quality for someone looking to go to medical school, I suppose. But not helpful at the moment.

“Madge, I need help.”

“So do I,” she chuckled. “Our help just left. Annie is better at these things.”

I groaned, because she was right. I wouldn’t care so much except for the fact that I didn’t want to embarrass Peeta by showing up inappropriately dressed. It was our first function together in front of his team. I knew it was important. 

I left Madge and Peter to walk down the hallway to my bedroom and take a look inside of my closet. 

It was one of the very seldom times in my recent life that I was thankful for Theta Kappa Phi. Thanks to all of their formals and parties, I had a few dresses to choose from. 

Madge made her way into the bathroom and a few moments later I heard the shower running as I continued to sift through the hangers for choices. Towards the back there was a black velvet dress I’d forgotten about. Form fitted, coming down to about mid-calf with a significant slit up the side of one leg and a low dip in the back. I wore it last year on New Years Eve. 

It could work.

“Find anything?” Madge asked, poking her head into the room. She had a towel wrapped around her head, another one clutched to her body with a steady drip of water puddling on the floor around her feet.

I held up the option for her scrutiny and her eyebrows lifted with approval as she reached out to touch the dress.

_ “Okay, _ Katniss,” she said with a smile. 

“Think it’ll work?” 

“Definitely. What else do you have in this closet of goodies?” she asked, stepping past me to inspect for herself.

“Take whatever you want,” I laughed, laying the black dress out on my bed. “I’m going to go shower if you’re done in there.”

“Sure.” 

Apparently, she had raided Annie’s closet too, because by the time I finished my shower and opened the door to let some of the steam out, she was dressed in a baby blue silk shift dress that I knew didn’t belong to either of us. 

“How long was I in there?” I teased her as she brushed her hair out before twisting it up into a low bun. Her makeup was finished too, flawlessly set on her face as her thick eyelashes batted with each blink. 

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, love, but you take ridiculously long showers.” 

“You look nice.”

“Thanks.” I watched with amusement as she hobbled down the hallway with one heel buckled around her ankle and the other foot bare as she searched for its partner. “You said Peeta is picking you up, right?”

“Yes.” 

A minute later she re-emerged, both shoes on her feet and small clutch in her hands.

“Okay, I’m meeting Gale so I’ll see you there!”

“See you.” 

The door had barely closed before my phone buzzed on the bathroom countertop with a message from Peeta saying he was on his way over. 

** Me (4:47pm): **Just come up when you get here. The door is unlocked.

I blew my hair dry before taking the flat iron to it and then started on my makeup. I was leaned over the bathroom mirror, applying a coat of mascara just as I heard the front door open. 

“Hello?” he called out, heavy footsteps making their way down the hall.

“In the bathroom.”

I caught his reflection in the mirror and spun around to face him fully.

Peeta stood in the hallway with nervous hands tucked into the pockets of his dress pants. His normally unruly curls were slicked back and he wore a pressed dress shirt tucked into a nice pair of pants and matching tie. 

I whistled lowly, which made him smile and walked closer, extending my hand out to him in greeting.

“Hi, I’m Katniss Everdeen.”

His thick eyebrows pinched in confusion and he laughed, shaking my hand.

“And you are…?”

“Peeta Mellark.”

“That’s funny, my boyfriend’s name is Peeta.”

“What are the odds?” he teased, bending down to meet my kiss as I pressed up on my toes. I smiled against his lips, running a hand down the length of his arm admiringly.

“You look good,” I whispered.

“You look better.”

“I’m not overdressed, am I?”

“No. You look incredible, Katniss,” he promised, voice low in reverence as his eyes roamed my body. Heat pooled in my stomach under his watchful gaze and I bit the corner of my lip as our eyes locked and intensity caught flame.

Wordlessly, we kissed again and when I fell back against the wall for support, Peeta caged me in with his body. I locked my hands around his thick neck, careful not to ruin his hair as my tongue slipped past his lips and our kiss deepened. Peeta moaned a little, his hands running up and down my sides before he pulled away just a fraction.

“Katniss,” he breathed against me, voice weak.

A muffled sound escaped me, the best I could do. My eyes were still closed, lost in sensation.

“We don’t have time for this.” His words lacked any sort of fight, as if begging for me to contradict them.

I opened my eyes and met his lust filled gaze. Against my hip, I could feel how I affected him, how despite his protest he was more than willing to press the boundaries.

He looked so good in his suit, I was in no position to deny my own desires. 

“Quickly,” I whispered, skimming my hands down his torso to connect with his belt buckle.

“We’ll be late.” His words broke off with a moan as my hand dipped into his pants and wrapped around his cock. His flesh was hot, pulsing with need and his breath came out faster as I stroked him up and down. 

I teased the base of his jaw, the sensitive skin between his neck and his ear where his skin was flushed. His large hands smoothed over my ass, cupping it over the velvet fabric of my dress as his hips started to slowly buck in time with my strokes.

“I could suck you off if you’re worried about being too messy,” I whispered. “So long as you promise to repay me later tonight.”

“Fuck, Katniss,” he whispered, eyes shut tightly and mouth slack. “Is there...do you have a condom here?”

My smile broadened. Peeta groaned when I pulled my hand out of his pants and turned away from him, back into the bathroom. I looked over my shoulder at him as I bent over into the cabinet and felt another wave of arousal at the neediness in his expression.

When I flashed the gold wrapper, he slipped his pants down far enough to free himself completely and I shimmied out of my panties.

His hands slid the fabric of my dress up around my waist as I worked the condom over his rigid flesh, giving him a few more experimental strokes before Peeta’s hand covered my own. 

“It’s too much,” he explained, throatily. 

I allowed him to press me back against the wall gently, and when I braced my hands on his shoulders, he lifted me up to wrap my legs around his middle. I gasped in surprise when I felt the head of his cock tease my wet folds and my head fell back in ecstasy as he filled me up completely.

His form shook, hands braced around me tightened as he began to work his hips back and forth. I clung to his body, burying my head into his neck as I moaned with abandonment. The new angle which we connected...the more open location...how spontaneous and quick the whole thing was worked in harmony to bring me closer to the edge of orgasm.

“Does it feel good?” Peeta grit out as his hips moved faster. 

“_ Yes, _Peeta,” I whispered, fisting my hands around the collar of his shirt. He kept one hand around my body and moved the other up to my hair, running his hands through it before pulling me in closer for another kiss. It was sloppy. My lipstick painted his lips red as our breaths mixed together and our sounds filled the apartment.

“I’m close,” he said, legs buckling a little as his rhythm became less steady. 

“Me too.”

My heels dug into his back and my body arched. I felt all of my muscles tense as a sharp cry ripped its way through my chest. I clutched Peeta, shuddering against him as he brought me to orgasm with the simple thrust of his hips.

I’d never come so easily before in my life.

Peeta’s skin was hot against my mouth. I was careful to avoid his white shirt, not wanting to stain it with my makeup, as trailed kisses over him until he came down from his high as well.

His breath stuttered and he dropped his head to rest against mine as we collected ourselves. My legs were jelly as he slowly released me and we readjusted our clothing.

I laughed, half-heartedly attempting to wipe the lipstick from Peeta’s pink skin and he ran his fingers through my hair, smoothing it. 

“Now we really have to go,” he chuckled, cheeks still flushed.

I pinched his ass as I slipped past him to grab my shoes from my bedroom, and then we were out the door.

* * *

It would be comical that I’d worried about being too _ dressed up _ if I wasn’t so freaking nervous. There was no hiding the fact that everyone here tonight had taken the black tie dress code very seriously. I almost ran the risk of being under-dressed. 

I was thankful that my arm was looped around Peeta’s broad forearm, and that our hands weren’t linked. Mine were sweating profusely as we entered the extravagant hotel which hosted the fundraiser. This made Theta’s events look like child’s play. 

“Your name, sir?” A man dressed in a black suit with matching slicked back hair asked as soon as we entered through the main doors. 

“Peeta Mellark.” 

The man turned, searching the table of laminated badges before finding and handing Peeta his.

“You and your guest will be seated at table fourteen, please. Ma’am, may I take your coat?”

“Oh, sure.” 

Peeta helped me out of my jacket awkwardly. I felt a flush of embarrassment creep to my cheeks as the man whose suit looked more expensive than my monthly rent handled my old jacket.

“Right this way, _ ma’am,” _Peeta teased, taking on a fake superior accent as he breathed the word into my ear. I bit my lip to stifle a giggle, leading the way down the hall and into the broad ballroom.

It was as gorgeous inside as it was on the outside. Marble floors and broad tables covered with white linen. Set up in the center of the room was an overabundance of food. Fruits and chocolate, an assortment of meats and cheeses, breads and crackers along with waiters pacing the length of the room with more platters of food extended for guests to try.

“You call this a fundraiser?” I mumbled to Peeta as we weaved through numbered tables in search of ours. 

“I never said it wasn’t ridiculous.”

“Are they always this...extravagant?” 

“I’ve only been once before, when I was a Freshman, but yes. It was. I was a nervous wreck,” he laughed, shaking his head a little at the memory. “All for a sport.”

“Who are all these people?” I asked.

“There’s directors of the program, the Dean and other higher ups at the school. Some are sponsors…”

“Very fancy.” 

“To be honest, I couldn’t tell you who was who,” he chuckled, a little bashful. “I should’ve given you a heads up, but I was worried that you might’ve not come.” 

“In your defense, you did warn me it wasn’t going to be romantic,” I said, giving his chest a little poke with my pointer finger. “I wouldn’t make you suffer through this twice by yourself.”

“Bless you.”

Peeta pulled the chair out for me as we arrived at our table, and I saw name cards across from us for Finnick _ and guest, _but Gale and Madge must’ve been sat somewhere else. I placed my purse down in the empty seat before Peeta and I wandered to look at some of the items up for auction. 

There was an incredible range, from bottles of wine to expensive getaways and everything in between. Peeta paused at the table which housed several different ‘experiences’, including a cooking class at a local five star restaurant. My eye caught the rock climbing 5-class tutorial. I was surprised that Gale wasn’t drooling over the electronic gaming and virtual reality headsets that we passed and was amused how many bids were written down for the spa packages.

I paused at a table with several different pieces of jewelry on it. I wasn’t big on wearing it, but I couldn’t help admiring one of the necklaces that was displayed. Simple in nature, it housed one singular saltwater pearl at the center. Its beauty was the type that made me oddly nostalgic for something I’d never had.

“That’s nice,” Peeta noted, coming to stand beside me when he noticed my lingering gaze. 

I looked away, embarrassed to be caught admiring something that was mostly heinously expensive. 

“Yeah,” I agreed as nonchalantly as possible. “It’s a shame I left my stack of one hundred dollar bills at home.”

“How careless of you, Ms. Everdeen,” Peeta teased, with a mock British accent. 

“Oh well,” I sighed, over exaggeratedly. “I suppose I’ll just have to be the disappointment of the evening.”

One of Peeta’s strong hands wrapped around my back, pulling me in closer to his warm body as he placed a soft kiss on my forehead. 

“Never.” 

I blinked, looking up at him in a sense of awe at his forwardness. It was a different side of him I was still only catching glimpses of, but the idea of him showing affection so publicly towards me one month ago was laughable. It gave me hope that we were moving in the right direction and I felt a ripple of butterflies work their way from my chest.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked. “Wine?”

“Sure.” I nodded. “White, please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I watched him walk across the room towards the crowded bar before turning back at the pearl necklace one last time with a departing glance. 

It was impossible to scan the crowded room for Madge or Annie. In the sea of unfamiliar faces, it seemed unlikely that I would find theirs, so I settled for catching up with them later tonight at dinner. 

I tried my best to fit in with the people surrounding me, busying myself by walking the length of tables and trying to appear as though I had any interest in actually bidding on anything. 

“So, how much did it cost Mellark this time?” 

The voice wasn’t immediately recognizable, but it still managed to send a shiver down my spine as I felt my posture stiffen. When I looked over my shoulder, it was the hulking blonde I’d had the displeasure of meeting the day of the culinary taste off last fall. The football player who had been giving Peeta a hard time. 

He was dressed as handsomely as the rest in a tailored suit, hair gelled into stiff spikes that some might’ve found attractive, but it didn’t quite work for me. His smile was arrogant, eyes calculated as he studied me.

“You know, if you’ve got a thing for blondes, you could’ve been my date.”

“Cato…” The girl hanging on his arm smacked him playfully, too enthralled by his presence to care that he’d just clearly insulted her. _ Cato. _Right. Now I remembered. 

“Just kidding, babe.” He promised, patting her arm with his thick hand. “So, Katniss. What was the damage?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, starting to turn away.

“How much money are you getting for being on this date tonight?” He kept pressing, refusing to let it go. Despite the several months that had passed since the night of the bet, some people stubbornly continued to keep it alive. 

“That’s your thing, isn’t it?” his date asked, her smirk unpleasant. The way her nose sloped and eyes were naturally narrowed, paired with her red hair made her look like a fox.

The two of them laughed, still clutching one another pathetically. As it seems, they were a matching set. 

I clenched my jaw, refusing to entertain their stupid commentary. I just wanted them to walk away and leave me alone before Peeta returned with the drinks. If they said something in front of him and ruined the night, I couldn’t promise that I wouldn’t go feral.

“Come on, Kat, it’s just a joke,” Cato said, brushing my silence off. “Can’t blame us for laughing. That was fucking hilarious.”

I opened my mouth, about to tell him where he and his fox faced date could shove their laughter, when a hand landed on my shoulder, effectively silencing me. 

To my surprise, it was Finnick who saddled up to my side.

“Sharing funny stories?” he asked, and then Gale appeared at my other side, towering over me like two personal bodyguards. “I got one. Remember the time you tripped over your own shoe on the field?”

Gale snorted, arms folded over his broad chest, face stoic.

“Think we lost by one touchdown that day, didn’t we Fin?”

“Yup,” Finnick agreed. “Because you didn’t stop the play. Because you tripped. _ Over yourself.” _

“That happened like a year ago,” Cato scoffed, face flushing despite himself. Next to him, his date shifted uncomfortably.

“Still funny,” Finnick said with a shrug. “Isn’t it hilarious when people keep bringing shit up from the past?”

Cato’s jaw clenched as he looked between the three of us, a brick wall that stood confidently together. 

“Why are you even here, bro?” Gale asked. “It’s your year off.”

“My dad is one of the sponsors.” It was pathetic how pompous he was about that fact. 

“That’s cute.”

The smug smile fell from Cato’s face with Gale’s reply and he glowered in his direction.

“Come on man, we’re all here to have a good time,” Finnick reasoned. “So why don’t you take a night off from being an asshole and enjoy yourself somewhere else, hmm?”

“Whatever,” Cato snorted, grabbing hold of his date’s hand before pulling her in the opposite direction as us.

Both Finnick and Gale watched him as he walked further away, but I was too busy watching them to care what Cato The Dick was doing. Gale noticed my stare first, and his eyes shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

“What?” 

“Thank you,” I said, truly meaning it as I regarded them both. 

“It wasn’t a problem, Catnip.”

“No, seriously,” I said, needing them to know my appreciation. “I mean, I wasn’t that concerned about him--he’s clearly an idiot--but, I didn’t want Peeta to come back and…”

“Look, you’re one of us now,” Finnick explained, giving my shoulder a light nudge. “We’ve got your back.”

“Yep,” Gale agreed, and I think my heart increased a couple of sizes. 

“Okay, just a warning...you’re going to get a hug from me now.”

Finnick groaned, pretending to be put off by the action despite the fact that his arms immediately wrapped around my body. I was sandwiched between the two of them when Peeta, Madge and Annie all walked up. Peeta glanced at the affectionate embrace in confusion.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” Finnick replied smoothly. “Katniss was just thanking us for saving her from buying a boat.”

His explanation did nothing to ease Peeta’s confusion, if anything I saw his eyebrows dip impossibly further as he tried to make sense of what his friend was saying.

“You...want a boat?” he asked, directing the question towards me.

“Answer carefully, Katniss,” Madge chuckled. “He’ll probably buy you one if you say yes.” 

“No,” I said with a roll of my eyes, accepting the glass of wine from his hands with appreciation. “I was just minding my own business when these hooligans came and started harassing me.”

“That makes more sense,” he agreed, an easy smile lacing his expression. “We should head to our table, I think they’re going to serve dinner soon.”

The rest of the night went without hitch. Cato kept his distance thanks to Finnick and Gale, and Peeta and I were free to enjoy the evening. The dinner was incredible, steak, vegetables and potatoes for the main course with pistachio ice cream and Italian cookies for dessert. Afterwards a space was cleared and a large dance floor was formed as music began to pump through the speakers. 

Dancing was an activity I usually avoided if possible, but when Peeta extended a hand for me to join him, I was powerless to reject. We swayed back and forth to the music, and when a line dance came on, an older man with white hair and a kind smile grabbed my hand to keep me from slipping away. 

By the time the night ended, and Peeta and I were heading back to his apartment, my feet were on fire but my heart was light. I laughed when Peeta insisted on carrying me through the hallway and into his bedroom so that I didn’t have to limp in my shoes.

“How have you never been a boyfriend before?” I questioned as his knee dipped the mattress and he lowered me down onto it.

He laughed, though the question clearly made him uncomfortable.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged lamely, sitting down on the bed next to me. 

“I’m not complaining. I’m happy to have you all to myself, I just feel bad for all of the other women of Panem University.”

He chuckled, a low sound from deep in his throat, and rolled his eyes.

“They’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

I kicked off my shoes, sighing in the relief bare feet brought me and started to pull bobby pins from my hair, making a neat pile on the comforter beside me. Peeta let me borrow some clothes for the night, a pair of boxers and an oversized t-shirt that more than covered my body all the way to mid-thigh. Even with the elastic band, the boxers were too big and continued to slide down my hips until I finally just let them drop, collecting in a puddle on the floor as I crawled into the bed with just my underwear and his t-shirt. Peeta didn’t seem to mind losing the article of clothing.

He loosened the tie around his neck and slipped out of his suit jacket, but hadn’t made a move to undress further. He sat on the edge of the mattress, body stiff and hands resting in his lap. When I maneuvered myself across the bed, closer to him, with my arms wrapped around his neck and chest pressed to his back, he laughed lightly.

“What are you doing?” I asked, busying my fingers with unbuttoning his dress shirt. I reached around to kiss his cheek as I waited reply.

“I have something to give to you,” he said, pulling my tease of his body up short. I noticed then that his hands were cupped together and curiously watched as he produced a small velvet box from them and held it out to me.

I felt my insides knot instinctively as I stared down at it. 

“What is it?”

“Look inside and see,” he chuckled.

I did, gasping when the lid opened and the pearl necklace I saw at the auction laid neatly inside. My mouth went slack as my eyes peered between it and Peeta in a dazed state of shock.

“How did you...when did you…?” The words weren’t forming. Honestly, I wasn’t sure there were any accurate enough. It was insane. Magnificent. It felt like a fist was wrapped around my heart, squeezing it almost to the point of pain as gratitude welled inside of my core. There was no hiding the guilt that made home there too, though. I didn’t need a price tag to know the gift hadn’t been cheap. 

“You like it?”

“It’s too much.”

“It was for a good cause,” he joked, laughing to himself as I bit the corner of my lip.

“You shouldn’t have.”

“But do you _ like _ it?” he pressed, again. I turned on my knees to face away from him, pulling all my hair off of my neck so that he could clasp it around me. It laid square between my breast bone and my fingers brushed against it admiringly. 

“I love it,” I corrected in a hushed tone, pulling Peeta closer to me by his loosened tie. “I’m never taking it off.”

“Never?” he questioned, one eyebrow raised in challenge at the bold claim. He shrugged out from his dress shirt when I popped open the last button, and after I had his undershirt removed he helped remove the one I wore too. 

That night when he fucked me, I wore nothing but his pearl around my neck.

* * *

This semester, my Tuesdays were weird. 

I had class from eight in the morning until ten and then a stretch of time free before my next class, which didn’t start until two. 

Delly’s first lecture didn’t start until noon, so we had standing gym plans every morning between our classes. After we parted ways, Peeta and I had plans to meet up at _ Second Rebellion _ for lunch, but I was a little early finishing up and Peeta was still in class.

Instead of walking to the District myself and waiting for him, I decided to surprise him by meeting him at the culinary building and then we could walk together. 

I could see him inside the kitchen through the thin windows, cleaning up his station after having created something that smelled heavenly. My stomach rumbled in answer to the scent and my lack of breakfast, and I eagerly waited for his exit from class so we could go eat.

“Hey Katniss.”

Portia was walking down the hallway, coming from the bathroom it seemed. Her thick, curly hair was pulled back into a small ponytail that stuck out the back of her black rimmed hat. 

Her makeup was perfect. Smile broad as she waved a few fingers at me in greeting. 

“Hi Portia.”

“Waiting for Peeta?” she guessed, glancing in through the doors and I nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, I figured.” She folded her arms, lingering instead of simply slipping back into the kitchen. “You must be proud of him.”

I frowned, confused by her words. I was always proud of Peeta, but the way Portia said it made it sound like something specific had happened. 

“Yeah,” I said slowly, not liking the feeling that she knew something I didn’t. “I am.”

“It’s a really big deal to be accepted for that internship. Only three of us in the whole program were asked to attend. And in _ Paris, _ nonetheless.” She sighed, wistfully. “That's the icing on the cake, pun totally intended. It’s going to be incredible.”

There was no hiding the surprise on my face. I was an open book that way, and Portia immediately noticed. I had no idea what she was talking about, but the same words played on repeat in my mind even as she continued to talk.

_ Internship. _

_ Paris. _

_ Paris. _

Motherfucking _ Paris. _

“Paris?” I repeated. Suddenly I wasn’t so hungry anymore. Portia at least had the decency to look a little ashamed, biting her lip apologetically as she read my expression. 

“I just assumed he had told you. I’ve been telling everyone. It’s...a really big deal.”

“So you’ve said.”

She looked away, guiltily. 

“How long?”

“Six weeks. Over the summer.” 

_ Six weeks? _ How could Peeta not have told me he was going to Europe for an internship half of the summer? Suddenly, all of the plans I’d been daydreaming of to escape the bitter cold of winter vanished. There would be no road trips to Virginia. No introducing Peeta to Mom and Prim. No making cupcakes with his nieces or going to the beach. If Peeta was going to be gone for six weeks, that meant he would come back just in time to start training at camp for the upcoming football season.

My heart constricted in my chest, painfully.

Okay. _ Calm down _. I forced myself to remember that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. It was only one summer and obviously the opportunity to go to Paris was far greater than the silly plans I’d concocted in my head. I could stomach that. 

I just couldn’t stomach that he hadn’t told me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for everyone who takes the time to leave a review :)


	18. February 19

* * *

_You're the one. You are the only one._

-The Head and The Heart 

* * *

The food in front of me sat largely untouched. 

My spoon circled idly around a bowl of cooling soup as I watched with no desire to bring it to my lips. 

_ Paris. _ The word was on a continuous loop in my mind, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else. 

Peeta was going to Paris. And he hadn’t told me. 

It didn’t take long for him to pick up on my disinterest in lunch and lack of conversation. Sensing the tension between us, his hand came across the table to rest on top of mine, stilling my spoon. 

“Is everything okay?” he asked gently. “You’ve been quiet.” 

“I’m fine,” I promised. It only took a moment for me to get annoyed with myself for lying before I sighed, changing my answer. “Actually, that’s not true.” 

“That much I can tell,” he smiled teasingly, but the humor dropped from his tone almost instantly. “What’s wrong?”

“When were you going to tell me you were going to Paris?” 

Peeta’s eyebrows knitted together, confusion heightened, and he scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. 

“I’m not.”

“You’re...not?”

“No.” He shook his head, pushing his hair away from his face. “Who told you that?”

“Portia.” Realization settled in his expression, and he inhaled deeply through his nose. “She said that you both were selected for a summer internship there.”

“That’s true,” he agreed, eyes shifting uncomfortably with so much of the conversation being geared towards him. 

“Peeta, that’s incredible,” I said. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t know that there was anything to tell, really.” The genuine honesty in his voice was difficult to dispute. “I’m not going.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s just...not good timing.”

Well, that was vague. 

“It’s over the summer," I countered. "The timing couldn’t be any better.”

“It overlaps with training camp. Coach said it was fine but...I don’t know. And I already promised my parents I would help out at the bakery after the semester ended.”

“You talked with your coach about it?”

He looked like a cornered animal, eyes wide and hands fidgeting as he fumbled for an answer.

“I mentioned it. Just for, you know, closure. I’d miss two weeks of training, though.” 

“But he said it was okay for you to?”

“Well...yeah.”

“Peeta.” His name was stern on my lips and instantly it caught his attention. “You want to go. You wouldn’t have applied, otherwise.”

“I applied last September. That was a long time ago. A lot has changed since then.”

Yeah, a lot had changed. Change was an inevitable part of life, and most everything in mine was different from September. Still, that wasn’t a good enough reason to not do something you were passionate about. 

“I don’t like feeling like I’m the thing holding you back,” I confessed nervously. I could feel my heart rate increasing inside of my chest at the conversation, one I wasn’t exactly comfortable having, and yet still one that needed to be had. 

“You’re not holding me back Katniss, I love being here with you. I lo--” he cut himself off, skin flaming from his soft cheeks all the way down his neck and disappearing into his shirt collar. The unfinished sentence clung to the air.

He what? He _ loved me? _ Was that what he was going to say? 

My lips parted and I sucked in a small breath, eyes wide with anticipation for him to _ just say it. _

“I just don’t want to go anymore.” 

I felt like a balloon that had had all of its air sucked out, but tried not to let it show on my face. I wasn’t sure why he insisted on lying about not wanting to take the internship when he so clearly did, but we would need to part ways soon for me to make it to class and Peeta the stadium for conditioning practice. I didn’t want to start an argument that we couldn’t finish and walk away frustrated, so I chose not to push.

But his feigned indifference was driving me insane. I felt like Madge, trying to peer into his soul in search for deeper meaning to his strange answer. 

“Okay,” I replied softly, instead of saying what I really wanted to. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything and that you found out through Portia. That wasn’t supposed to happen.” 

“It’s okay,” I assured him, finally starting in on my soup now that Peeta was practically finished with his sandwich. 

Just as I scraped the bottom of the bowl, he glanced at his phone and sighed. 

“I have to go. Coach wants us signed into the weight room by one.”

“Yeah, I have class soon.” We gathered up our plates and trash, bringing everything to the garbage and recycling bins before heading for the main doors leading out of the café. 

The wind had picked up, a fierce thing when temperatures were already bordering on being negative, and I wrapped my scarf around my neck an extra time, burrowing into it. 

“I’ll see you tonight?” Peeta asked, hunching his shoulders a bit to ward off the sting of air. I could only force out a nod and quick wave goodbye before turning to retreat to the next warmest building. Not long after I started to walk though did I turn back and call out his name. 

The tip of his nose was cherry red and the corners of his eyes had small tears in them from wind burn, making the natural blue of his irises stand out all the more. 

“Just...promise me you’ll think about it?” 

“Okay,” he agreed slowly, stepping closer to place a quick kiss on top of my bare head. 

_ I love you. _ I wanted to say. I was fairly confident it was what he wanted to say to me, too. Instead though, we turned to head in opposite directions, drifting further apart towards opposite ends of the school. 

+++

I couldn’t concentrate. 

Lecture was a mind-numbing hum of noise. Words that I copied down in my notebook without thought and slideshows that held little meaning to me. With the biggest test until finals coming up in just a few weeks, I had no business zoning out, but I couldn’t help it. Thanks to Portia, all of my thoughts buzzed around Peeta and France.

No, that wasn’t fair. Portia had seemed genuinely sorry, her attitude different from the superiority she displayed in the past with me. I knew she hadn’t meant to spill some secret, that she assumed Peeta had mentioned it. 

I understood why he said he hadn’t, that he’d made the decision not to go, but it seemed like such a major thing to decide without even mentioning it. Did he think I wouldn’t be encouraging? That I would get mad at him for accepting because it would change our plans? I knew that if the roles had been reversed, and it was me who’d received an internship, Peeta would be insistent that I went. Guilt clouded my line of reason as I hoped his only reason for declining hadn’t been me. 

The eraser end of Johanna’s pencil jabbed into my arm, and when I turned to glare at her I noticed the note written on the corner of her paper.

_ Short circuiting, brainless? _

I rolled my eyes, and she snickered, the sound quiet but I could still feel her shoulders shaking with the effort. 

She was right, though. I wasn’t paying any attention, and when class ended I collected my books up thankfully and fled the lecture hall without a spoken word. 

I was halfway across campus, on the way to my last class of the day when my phone vibrated inside my pocket with a new text message. 

_Delly (2:15pm):_ GUESS WHAT.

**Me (2:16pm): **??

The little gray dots at the bottom of my screen appeared before my phone changed screens all together, lighting up with an incoming call from her. I laughed to myself a little before picking up the call.

“Hey.”

“Sorry, I’m too wound up to text. Where are you?” I could hear the excitement in her voice, how it rose a few octaves and was almost a song in its tone as she asked the question. It was the only thing that kept me from panicking at her insistent question.

“Uh,” I looked around the snowy streets. “Headed for the Union building. I’m passing Capitol Hill now.”

“Great. Stay there, I’m coming.”

“Dell, it’s freezing--”

“Stay. Put. I’m on my way!” 

The phone disconnected before I had the opportunity to argue any further and I huffed, causing the air around me to form a small cloud. I stood off to the side of the walkway, bouncing back and forth on my feet to fight off the chill as I glanced around the crowded campus.

“Katniss!”

Delly’s voice cut through the stream of students on their way between classes, and I caught sight of her running the best she was able to in heeled boots, waving a piece of paper around in her hand like a maniac.

When she caught up to me, she nearly knocked me over as her arms wrapped around my body and she hugged me close against her.

“I got in! I got in!”

“You got into what?” I winced as she pulled away, and I nearly lost my footing.

“Grad School! In Washington!” 

Realization dawned on me, that she was holding an acceptance letter in her hand, and my numb face broke out into a smile that was so large, I was sure it matched her own.

“Oh my God, you got in!” I squealed, not caring who heard as Delly laughed and started to jump up and down with her hands connected in mine.

“I feel like I won the lottery.” Her naturally pale cheeks and nose were flushed red from the cold, and despite her wide grin, her teeth chattered. “I can finally start making concrete plans for after graduation. I can apply for a job and get an apartment. Oh my god, my sister is going to flip out!” 

“I’m so happy for you.” It was painful to talk about what the next few months had in store for so many of my friends. Moving away, making new plans and starting a new life away from Wisconsin and Panem. But it was impossible to not be happy for her. It was everything she had been talking about in the three years since we’d met.

Everything except for…

“Have you told Thresh yet?”

Her smile faltered a little and she bit the corner of her lip.

“I’m on my way to talk to him now. I probably should’ve told him first but I was so excited and I just needed to be with someone who could be one hundred percent happy for me. Great, now I’m nauseous. I don’t know if it’s from the burrito I just ate or the impending doom of this conversation."

“Whatever happens it’s going to be okay. You’d hardly be the first couple to do the long distance thing, you know?”

She nodded.

“We’d also hardly be the first couple to break up after college,” she muttered and I gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Where did my positive Delly run off to?”

“Sometimes reality makes her take the back burner.”

“The reality is if you’re as important to Thresh as I think you are, distance won’t matter. He loves you. He’s going to love you in Texas or Washington. You guys will make it work.”

I wasn’t sure if I was giving the speech to myself or to Delly, as the words rang true to mine and Peeta’s situation too.

Of course I wanted what was best for him. The idea of him giving up Paris because he was worried about how it would affect our relationship was laughable if it weren’t so sweet. 

I wasn’t going anywhere. I had to trust that he felt the same way about me. I loved him, and distance wouldn’t change that.

“Delly, I have to go but we’ll go out and celebrate tonight, alright? After you talk with Thresh.”

“Okay,” she agreed, giving my cheek a quick kiss before turning in the opposite direction as me.

“Hey, I thought you were headed for the Union building?” she called out, confused.

“Change of plans. I’ll catch up with you later.”

I pulled my phone out and typed a quick message with icy fingers.

**Me (2:37pm): **Are you still at practice?

_ Peeta (2:40pm): _ No, just got home.

**Me (2:42pm): **Ok. I’m kind of on my way over, lol. 

It didn’t take long for Peeta to answer the door after I arrived. His cheeks were still flushed from exertion, hair damp with perspiration that also collected around the collar of his shirt. 

“Hey,” he greeted, taking a sip of water. “Come in.”

I passed through the threshold, following him into the kitchen.   
  


“Do you want hot chocolate?” He asked, noting the way I dusted snow off of my coat before hanging it up, but I quickly declined with a shake of my head. 

“Don’t you have class?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. I smiled to myself when he winced at the sweat that collected on his hairline.

“I skipped,” I told him, plainly. 

“Oh.” His eyebrows dipped in confusion. “Everything okay?” 

“Yes,” I said lowly, aware that we weren’t alone if the video games sounding from the loft were any indication. Peeta watched with bright blue eyes as I rounded the counter in the kitchen to stand pressed against him. “I just wanted to see you.”

“You did?” His lips turned up in a welcomed smile as he craned his neck down to look at me.

“Yeah.”

He met my kiss easily but pulled back after a moment with a slightly annoyed expression.

“I should...go shower. I stink,” he chuckled, chagrined.

“I’ll join you,” I offered with a sly smile, and the way Peeta’s cheeks reddened had nothing to do with physical strain. His mouth gaped slightly as he studied me, looking for sign of jest that he wouldn’t find before grabbing my hand and leading me to his bedroom.

I giggled quietly as I trailed behind him, down the hallway that had become increasingly familiar to me over the past few months before we slipped into his room.

The door clicked shut and then his mouth was on mine again and my hands were in his hair--sweat be damned. His hand around my waist tightened, lifting me up a little as he shuffled into the bathroom and closed the door to add another layer of privacy. 

The way Peeta’s lidded eyes scourged me as I pulled up my shirt, like he’d never seen me without one, would never cease to make the heat flood to the pit of my stomach. He watched me with a hungry intensity, one that had his tongue darting out just slightly past his lips to wet them.

He let out a low groan when he noticed I wasn’t wearing a bra beneath it.

“I feel like this is a dream,” he admitted, low amusement in his tone as his strong hands caressed my bare skin. It pebbled with goosebumps, both from the chill and anticipation for more, and I pressed further into his touch. 

“Like I’m going to wake up any minute and reality will set in. You’re so much more than I ever imagined having, Katniss. So much more than I deserve…”

“I think my nakedness is making you talk crazy,” I teased, voice hitching when his thumbs passed over my nipples. He swirled around the sensitive skin, refusing to touch where I desperately needed him to until I was squirming in his hands. 

“There’s nothing about me that you don’t deserve, Peeta. You are so much _ more _ than anything I’ve ever had.”

“Katniss.” My name was a sigh on his lips as I eased his shirt up over his head and he worked to unbutton my jeans. The fabric of his athletic shorts were tented with obvious arousal and when I cupped him over the mesh material, he sucked in a tight breath. 

“Take these off,” I instructed, giving him a squeeze that caused his hips to jerk before turning to the shower. “I’ll get the water.”

“Yes ma’am.”

I played with the faucet until the water ran hot enough to make steam rise and then turned on the jets. Peeta and I slipped inside and pulled the curtain shut, allowing the warm spray to wet our skin. 

I smoothed my hands on his stomach, slipping around his waist to hold him tight against me until we were completely soaked and he reached for the soap. I hummed my approval as he glided the bar over my skin, working it along my spine and over my shoulder blades as my cheek stayed pressed to the center of his chest.

I watched a water droplet slide down his skin, collecting on the tip of his nipple and leaned over to lick it off. I smiled against him as I felt his body shudder and the rumbling groan that rose from deep in his core. 

I continued to tease the sensitive spot, licking and sucking it as my hands caressed his smooth skin. I loved how he felt. How big and powerful he was towering above me, and how small I felt when I tried to wrap my arms around him fully and couldn’t. 

He was irresistible. To think otherwise was absolutely ridiculous.

I never wanted to stop touching him. 

“Peeta,” I breathed on his skin and his hands tightened on me, cock twitched between us. 

“Yeah?” His voice was hoarse, chest heaving quietly as I looked up at him.

“My turn.”

I took the soap from his hands, lathering it up between my palms before running it over his body. I started with his shoulders, tracing their broad expanse and playing connect the dots with the suds between his freckles. When I massaged his neck, his head tipped back under the spray, soaking his curls and causing his eyes to lull shut. 

It boded well for me. I used his relaxed state as an element of surprise as I teased my way down his sternum, his stomach, swirling my finger through the hair below his navel that led further down before lowering myself to my knees. 

I had his full attention now. His eyes widened, entire body reddening at the sight of me before his thick cock, already throbbing and so hard it rested flush against his body.

I moved my soapy hands around his girth, sliding up to the tip of him before moving back down at a painstakingly slow pace. Peeta couldn’t help the way his hips moved rhythmically, small motions back and forth, like he couldn’t stand not having my touch on him for even a moment. 

When I leaned in and kissed the head of his cock, his hands searched for purchase on the tiled wall behind him. 

“Ah, shit,” he groaned, sucking in a breath as my tongue finally contacted his skin. “ “Katniss...Wh-what are you doing?” 

I released him with a pop and looked up to meet his hooded eyes. 

“What does it feel like I’m doing?” I chuckled, giving him a teasing swirl of my tongue. “I want to taste you.”

A low curse fell from his lips, so funny coming from my mild Peeta that it makes me laugh. When I did, the vibrations tickled his cock and Peeta’s knees buckled a little before he straightened again. 

I used one of my hands to cover whatever length of him I couldn’t take, pumping him in harmony with my teasing licks and hollowing my cheeks around him to suck more vigorously. 

I might’ve learned a thing or two from my new roommates on the subject, and planned on putting it to good use.

Peeta seemed to be enjoying it. His hands gently knotted into my wet hair, holding onto the back of my head as I worked. I moved my free hand up his inner thigh teasingly before cupping his sac, lightly massaging his balls. 

“You’ll....you’ll make me come,” he stuttered a warning, looking nearly pained in his expression as I ignored him, continuing.

_ Wasn’t that the whole point? _

I recognized the telltale signs of impending orgasm. Glutes tightening, stomach clenched as he shuddered out rapid breaths. His skin turned a darker shade of red, all the way up his neck to his ears, and his eyes started to cross. Balls tightened closer against him in my palm.

The hand in my hair slid down to cup my cheek, pushing me back.

“I don’t want to finish yet,” he whispered, voice clipped with the effort it took to explain. 

I smiled up at him, giving one last teasing stroke before holding onto his shaking arm to ease myself up off of my knees. We climbed out of the shower and Peeta wrapped a thick towel around my body, helping to dry me off some before we went back into his bedroom.

I fell down onto his bed, flat on my back, anxiously waiting for him to get a condom and slip it on. The bed dipped with his weight and I felt him crawl closer to me, until he was hovering over the top of me. A drip of water fell from the tip of his hair onto my face, rolling down the side of my cheek and neck, collecting on the pillow with the saturation from my own hair beneath me. 

We both moaned as he guided himself inside of me. It was different now, there was no hesitation in his movements, no uncertainty. He’d learned my body as his own and filled me up so snugly it was though he was a missing piece of a puzzle. 

I clung to his back, nails digging into the soft skin as he ground his hips in and out of me, breath fanning across my exposed neck as he buried his head there. 

“I’m so crazy about you, Katniss,” he murmured to me. The bedframe groaned beneath us, rocking in time with his thrusts, smacking against the wall that connected to Finnick’s room. 

I hoped he wasn’t in there.

God, I really didn’t care if he was. 

“Peeta,” I cried out, aware that I was being too loud but far past the point of caring. His body shuddered at the sound of his name on my lips, and I could hear the silent plea in the way he bucked quicker against me.

_ Say it again. _

“Peeta.” It was a grunt that time, needy and desperate as I pulled him impossibly closer to me. When I pushed on his shoulders a little, he followed my lead and rolled us over so that I was straddling him and he was laying flat against the mattress. 

I looked down as I began to ride him, watching the way his long eyelashes fluttered in pleasure and eyes rolled to the back of his head before closing. I placed my hands on his chest as my movements grew quicker and less rhythmic and Peeta clutched my wrists for something to hold onto as a groan tore from his throat at the sensation.

When he slid a hand down between our bodies and sought my clit, rubbing it in furious circles, it was enough. 

“Oh god,” I whimpered, passing the point of no return. “Oh fu…._ck._ I’m going to come. Peeta, I’m coming.”

“Come Katniss,” he encouraged through clenched teeth. “I’m close...t-too.” 

“Harder,” I begged, letting out a noise that I could be embarrassed about later when the rough pad of Peeta’s thumb slid just right over my clit. 

My pleading moans filled the room, mixed with Peeta’s low, intoxicating sounds of pleasure as he started to crest along side me. 

I fell down on top of him in exhaustion, both of our chests heaving as he brushed my hair away from my face and wrapped his arms tightly around me.

We stayed like that, connected and spent, for a few long minutes. So quiet, I wondered if Peeta had fallen asleep. I was tired enough that I felt like I could’ve. If only my brain would shut off. 

It was difficult to comprehend how at this point last year, I had no idea who Peeta was. He was now easily one of the most important parts of my life. The idea of spending six weeks without him readily accessible made my chest tight. 

But it wasn’t enough to change my feelings. I laid there, blinking as I studied the wall on the opposite end of the room, listening to his heartbeat from inside his chest as my fingers toyed with the pearl around my neck. 

I loved him enough that I knew what needed to be said. 

“You need to go to Paris,” I whispered, and the hand rubbing my back stilled, as if he was trying to decipher whether or not he had heard me correctly. 

“What?” he asked.

I lifted my head up to look at him, chin resting against the center of his chest as our eyes locked.

“I think you should take the internship. You already said it wouldn’t be a problem with football and you know your parents wouldn’t hold it against you for spending one summer away from the bakery.”

Peeta stayed silent, but I saw the way his head tipped slightly in agreement.

“It’s an opportunity to visit one of the most culinary acclaimed cities in the world.”

“I’m not denying that it’s a good opportunity,” Peeta finally spoke. 

“And a huge accomplishment,” I added, to which he shyly nodded. 

“But there’s more to think about. I’m not sure that it’s the right move to run off to Europe for half of the summer.”

“You’re in college, you’re young. These sort of chances--”

“--Will come around again,” he interrupted, earnest. “There’s an entire lifetime after college to travel and do things.”

“Do you _ want _ to go? Truly. Other factors aside.”

He hesitated, and then I felt his breath fan across my skin.

“Yes.”

“Then why would you ever give up six weeks in Paris to hang around Wisconsin?”

“Because everything I love is in Wisconsin,” he whispered, the words rushing out of his mouth in one breath. “_You’re _in Wisconsin.”

I sucked in a breath, staring up at him unblinkingly as his cheeks reddened with the accidental confession. I swallowed heavily, lips turning up slowly, hopefully.

“You...love me?” 

He looked at me like the answer were obvious, and maybe it was, but I needed to hear him say it. 

“I’m so in love with you, Katniss.” 

I pushed myself up his body further, locking my hands around his cheeks as our lips pressed together. I kissed him with fierce passion, my entire body humming and acutely alive as a mixture of pheromones and undeniable adrenaline coursed through me. 

Peeta’s hands found purchase on my hips, carefully holding them with his large hands.

“I love you, too,” I told him back as we broke apart for a breath. “So much.”

“That scares the shit out of me,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “But it’s the truth. I love you and I refuse to lose you.” 

“You’re not going to lose me by going to Paris,” I promised him, newfound forcefulness to my tone. _ “I _refuse to let you.”

“We don’t have to decide this right now.”

“Peeta, I see the light in your eyes when you start cooking. How passionate you are for it. I know this internship means a lot to you, so you don’t need to be scared to take it. I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back.”

“What about Pittsburgh and Virginia? Prim?”

“She might not talk to you for a week, but she’ll get over it,” I teased. “There’s always winter break.” 

“You’re really okay with this?” he asked, hesitantly, eyeing me with deep scrutiny to study my response.

“One hundred percent,” I promised. “I love you, Peeta.”

His eyes closed and he leaned in closer to me, resting his chin on the top of my head.

“I never imagined I’d hear those words,” he chuckled, quietly. “Now I’m worried I’ll become addicted.”

“I’ll happily feed this addiction,” I chuckled, finally rolling off of him when I realized both of us still needed to clean ourselves up. I caught him staring at me as I stood up from the bed, making my way back to his bathroom. I looked at him from over my shoulder and smiled. 

“Je t'aime.” His eyes widened in surprise and I couldn’t help but giggle at his adorable face. “I took French through high school.”

“Then maybe you can help me, because I’m clueless,” he chuckled. 

“Whatever you need,” I promised, before repeating the words. “Je t’aime. I love you.”

“Je t’aime,” he breathed back, bending down to kiss me.

+++

After we were cleaned up and dressed, I noticed a few new text messages on my phone, both from Delly and Madge about plans for tonight. All must’ve gone well for Delly then, with her and Thresh’s talk. She wanted to get everyone together and celebrate. 

I was surprised to turn the corner of the hallway and see Madge sitting there, spinning around in one of the chairs that sat up against the kitchen counter. 

“Oh, hey Kat,” she greeted. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“That’s because they didn’t _ want _ us to know she was here,” Gale chuckled, and despite Peeta’s heated cheeks, he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me in closer to him. 

“I just texted you and Annie both to see if we were meeting up at the Seam or beforehand. Delly said she has big news to tell us tonight.”

“She’s not the only one.” I chanced a glance up at Peeta with a smile, a look he matched with a sly one of his own.

“What?” Madge scoffed, standing up out of the chair with indignation. 

“Jesus, calm down,” Gale told her. 

“All of these secrets,” she tisked, ignoring him. “Tell me.”

“Well…”

“Oh my god. You’re going to Paris?” she guessed, voice raising up to an octave only dogs could hear on the last word. We all winced, and she covered her mouth a little, though ultimately looking unapologetic. 

“How did you--” Peeta started, and I bit the corner of my lip, guiltily.

“I might’ve mentioned something about it last night. Sorry.”

“So I’m right then? You’re taking the internship?” 

“You’ll find out at dinner,” Peeta promised.

“Let’s go then,” she insisted, walking over to the closet to grab her coat. “I’m starving.”

“Starving for gossip,” Gale muttered, making me laugh.

They walked out of the apartment, still playfully bickering while Peeta grabbed my jacket and held it out for me to slip into. 

“She’s crazy,” Peeta snickered, stuffing his hands down into his pockets as we lingered in the threshold.

“True. But we love her.”

"I love you." He swallowed. “Je t’aime.”

I felt my heart skip a beat and the peace of knowing that no matter what happened, or where we were taken, that fact would remain gave me confidence in our future together. 

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be on the lookout, friends. Epilogue coming soon. 
> 
> Remember to subscribe to "The Panem Nightlocks" series if you want to be notified about future works from this universe! :)


	19. July

* * *

_All's well that ends well to end up with you._

-Taylor Swift 

* * *

Time was an incredible thing.

One minute it felt like it would never pass, and the next, a moment was over.

I'd spent so much time last semester worrying about June and all the changes it would bring, that I'd hardly enjoyed the time leading up to it.

Wisconsin's eternal winter finally melted, bringing bright blue skies and the distinct smell of spring into the air. As everything melted, and finals approached, I prepared myself to let go of several people who had become extremely close to me over the past six months.

Now, it felt hard to believe that it was already the second week in July, and the six weeks Peeta spent in France were already finished. I glanced at my watch as I waited in line at _Second Rebellion _for my iced drink. In just two short hours, Peeta's plane would land and he would be back in Wisconsin.

So much had happened while he was gone.

Delly, Thresh, Finnick and Annie all graduated. Despite the ceremony not beginning until almost ten o'clock France time, and that he was expected to be in the bakery by three the next morning, Peeta tied in via FaceTime to the ceremony to watch our friends cross the podium and accept their diplomas.

We celebrated at the Seam, one last night together before everyone prepared to head their separate ways. I helped Delly pack up all of her things in the Theta house and move into her and Thresh's new apartment in downtown Seattle. They'd both already made headway on jobs. Thresh started as an accountant for a local law firm the following Monday after the move, and Delly had a second interview for a substitute teaching position at an elementary school she described as _darling. _I hoped she'd get it. The schedule worked so well around that of her Masters degree program.

I'd worked enough at Greasy Sae's to save up money for a plane ticket back to Pittsburgh from Seattle and went to visit with Mom and Prim for a week. Even though Prim was still pretty annoyed that Peeta wouldn't be joining me that time, I helped to ease her disappointment with the promise to take her to one of his games next fall.

Finnick and Annie's plans weren't laid out as neatly as Delly and Thresh's had been. They were trying to take on a more spontaneous approach for the beginning of their future.

After Finnick declared for the NFL, it wasn't long before he was picked up and drafted by the Philadelphia Eagles. Long before graduation, he knew he would be moving out to Pennsylvania, at least temporarily, for the rookie transitional training camp over the summer. The hope was to impress the coaching staff enough for them to officially sign him for the fall season. They had him playing running back, a position he wasn't extremely comfortable with, but we all had full confidence he could learn to adapt quick enough to make his mark.

Philly was only an hour and a half ride away from Manhattan, the city Annie was apartment hunting just outside of. It was a closer long distance relationship than they'd planned on, much to both of their relief, and would make trips to visit one another far more doable than they'd originally anticipated while they both pursued their careers. She didn't plan on leaving our apartment in Panem until closer to the end of the month, though. Too afraid to jump into a new city life completely alone while Finnick was in the thick of his training. Neither Madge or I could blame her, and were happy to keep her around for the few weeks more.

Campus already felt weird with so many of our core group missing, but it was the inevitable part of growing up and moving forward in life. 

Next year, it would be me and Peeta navigating it all.

I’d been giddy all week in anticipation of his arrival, dreaming of burying myself against his wide chest and having his strong arms wrap around my body. I knew that he was going to be jet lagged and exhausted from all of the travel. Come Monday, he would need to jump right back into things with football practice and preparing for the upcoming semester. But tonight, he was all mine.

Gale knew we'd want some privacy, probably thanks to his girlfriend, and promised to vacate the apartment and stay overnight with Madge. Having the entire place to ourselves was more privacy than we had ever been afforded in the past, and I planned to make good use of it. 

Gale and Madge left a few minutes ago, giving me time to settle in and set up all the necessary components of my surprise before Peeta arrived.

It had been the right decision for him to go to Paris. For six weeks he had been interning at a pastry shop right in the heart of the city, learning new techniques and perfecting old ones from a brilliant chef who had owned his own bakery for thirty years. Every night when we spoke, I saw that same sparkle in his eyes that I had been talking about, and the building enthusiasm and passion that made it clear it was what he was meant to do.

It also helped that Portia had been assigned to intern at a different bakery.

One of the best moments had been the night of our virtual date, where Peeta ‘took’ me to see the Eiffel Tower completely lit up and twinkling in the sparkle of the city’s night glow. I ate cheese from the local farmers market and wine in my bedroom while watching my phone in awe, daydreaming of the time where maybe, possibly we could visit the gorgeous landmark together.

Perhaps on a honeymoon.

I was long past the point of scolding myself for these wild futuristic fantasies. I loved Peeta more than anything in the world, and counted my blessings that time and distance had done nothing to affect our feelings for one another. If I wanted to daydream about a future with him, damnit there were worse things to do.

My phone buzzed with an incoming call from Peeta and I quickly picked it up, biting the corner of my lip to keep from grinning.

“Did you land?” I asked immediately after answering, and Peeta’s warm laughter filled the speaker.

“Yep, I just got my bags and am headed to my truck now.” 

“Good, I’m glad you made it back safely. You’re probably exhausted.” 

I lit a few candles, illuminating the room as I talked with him.

“Yeah, it’s hard to sleep on planes.”

“You should go home and get some sleep.” 

“I miss you, though,” he argued, voice light and teasing. I couldn’t help my smile now but forced myself to continue playing coy.

“You’ll see me soon enough.”

_ Sooner than you think, Mellark. _

We stayed on the phone as he drove home, mainly so I could make sure he stayed alert enough on the roads. When the headlights of his truck pulled up in front of the apartment, I quickly pulled the blinds shut and situated myself on top of his kitchen counter. 

“Are you home?” I asked, feigning innocence. 

“Yes,” he grunted, pulling his bags out of the backseat before I heard the door shut tightly. When his footsteps sounded on the staircase, I untied the robe I was wearing, allowing it to drift open and reveal a whole lot of skin and a scantily amount of lace.

The doorknob twisted and my heart skipped a beat. I twisted my forefinger and thumb around the singular pearl that rested between my breasts and smiled timidly when the door opened and his piercing blue eyes locked on mine. 

The bag in his hand dropped to the floor, right along with his jaw.

“Bonjour, amour,” I breathed into the phone, despite our close distance to one another. I saw his Adam’s apple bob, pink tint his cheeks.

Six weeks had been far too long and my body hummed for his. 

“So...do you have any plans for tonight?” I asked.

“I didn’t,” he breathed, finally hanging up the phone and chancing a step closer to me. My body warmed, nerves dancing as he licked his lips and came to rest between my legs.

“But I think the evening just got a lot more interesting.” 

_ FIN. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long authors note ahead, but please read! 
> 
> First, I just want to take a minute to thank my best friend, Jessa because without her this story wouldn't have been the same. She spent countless (countless!!) hours listening to me talk about these characters, outlining with me and being an amazing support system while I wrote and published this story. It was some of her incredible ideas that molded the plot into what it became and I'm so grateful for her. 
> 
> I also just want to thank all of you, collectively. I've been away from publicly posting my works for a few years now and it was extremely daunting to come back, but your response (especially to a project like The Bet that I love so much) has made me so happy and given me inspiration to continue writing and sharing my works. Thank you for every view, every kudos, every comment and every thought shared with me on tumblr. It has been so enjoyable and I will miss sharing weekly updates of this story with you all. 
> 
> That being said, here is some information about the expansion of this universe. Please, if you haven't already, make sure you ***bookmark*** the PANEM NIGHTLOCKS SERIES if you want to be notified about any future works related to 'The Bet.' And be on the lookout for these in the future:
> 
> -'The Challenge' (Madge and Gale's story)  
-'The Tutor' (Finnick and Annie's story)  
and...
> 
> -'Still Betting on You' which will be a small continuation for Peeta and Katniss! 
> 
> More info to come on my tumblr, so come join me over there if you'd like to see some sneak peeks and be kept entirely up to date!
> 
> Until then friends,
> 
> Au revoir et merci!

**Author's Note:**

> I would greatly appreciate your feedback :)
> 
> I am awhiskeyriver on tumblr if you want to say hello!


End file.
